


maybe we forgot (all the things we are)

by angeltalk



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reunions, Sexual Tension, inevitable slowburn because these two cant communicate to save their lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeltalk/pseuds/angeltalk
Summary: “I’ll get their exact location from you tomorrow before dawn,” Killua said blankly as he paused with his hand on the doorknob, “Tell your informant that I won’t be waiting for him.”He didn’t bother with a thank you. Thank you’s were for strangers and acquaintances. It was something he’d stuck with from all those years ago.As Killua slipped out the door into the deep hallway, he didn’t see Bisky silently pull her cell phone from her pocket. Eyes focused out into the nighttime streets, the Double Star Hunter stood still as a doe, cell phone ringing softly in her tightening grasp. Her body language unreadable.The sudden, jarring, quiet indicated the recipient of the call had picked up.A beat of cold, still silence.Biscuit opened her mouth and spoke smoothly, quietly,“Gon. It’s me. We need to talk.”[Or, Killua crash lands into an unexpected reunion with his long lost best friend in the worst way imaginable.]
Relationships: Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 86
Kudos: 238





	1. and it starts with forever

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine has me writing again, and just in time for me to be riding out my latest Hunter x Hunter obsession. This series is very special to me, as are the characters! I've wanted to write for this series for a long time now, and I've always loved Gon and Killua's relationship, so that will be a very very big plot point here. 
> 
> I must warn you this fic does include some violence, as well as nsfw in future chapters. In addition to this, Alluka in this fic is written as a trans girl. Please understand this is simply my headcannon and you are not obligated to agree with me. 
> 
> Regardless, this story will pick up the pace very quickly, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Killua was nineteen years old when he had a deep, numbly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was amiss.

Yorknew city was just as loud and bustling as he remembered it from five years ago. Dirty sidewalks, dark alleyways, obvious mafia influence disguised underneath a wealthy, sunny and otherwise borderline cheerful city environment. Powerful businessmen and criminals - more often than not of whom were one and the same - coexisting on the river of concrete in the dry summer. Time seemed to fast-track itself, slow itself down, and reverse itself here by its own volition.

He idly wondered what it would be like to be a civilian. The skyscrapers overhead pierced the sky as if they’d been there for millennia. Vast and sprawling, it was probably easy to lose yourself in the rhythm. Temptingly so. If he was living another life, a stranger’s life, Killua could imagine himself falling into step with it, a dance he so envied of the faceless nobodies that passed him by.

Killua observed quietly out the window of the coffee shop as he waited for Alluka to come back with their drink orders. They were here mostly on business, and only partly on personal interest. Those two topics usually bled together fast, though, in their case.

Regardless, the personal interest part was the easy one - he and Alluka were still in hiding from their family. To be more specific, from a certain member of the family. Killua had deduced sometime last year that the rest of their family had submit to simply banking on he and Alluka coming back in due time. Banking on that, and, being unable to convince his other brother to give up the chase.

Killua held a lot of respect for his father, but even the head of the family seemed unable to calm his eldest son’s endless greed.

Maybe Killua would go back. _Maybe_ , after Illumi either got what was coming for him or fucked off somewhere nobody would ever find him. Maybe he’d go back.

Maybe. But not now.

Maybe not now, but… depending on how this played out…

“You really should try something different now and again,” A familiar voice chided as a cold beverage was placed on the counter he was seated at.

Killua turned his head to see his younger sister gracefully sit down at the high counter aside him. She wore her hair up in a high ponytail and her yellow sundress bounced expensively as she made herself comfortable. Though their family might like to deny it, Alluka was a Zoldyck for sure. Paper-white skin and delicate, family-signature borderline catlike features. Long, heavy jet black locks as soft as silk. At seventeen, she was a stunner.

Killua wore similarly a summery outfit in a deep blue slightly baggy tee and black shorts, mid-calf length socks and white designer sneakers. Well, used to be more white than they were now. They’d done a lot of walking recently. He'd lost track of the amount of sneakers he burnt through with Godspeed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You made sure to ask for sugar right?”

Alluka snorted, “After what happened last time? Yeah, I remembered.”

Killua shrugged with a smile and took a sip of the coffee, “Yeah, well, you deserved it!”

She pouted and took a long sip of the iced tea in her hands, “You’re the worst.”

Killua grinned and the two fell into a comfortable silence. They’d both had a long night and traveled quite a roundabout way to arrive at their destination. Because, you know, the crazy asshole stalker brother was still loose.

Presumably still loose. Probably.

He chewed on the straw to his drink distractedly. He’d been drinking so much coffee lately. Not that the caffiene was actually going to have any effect on him whatsoever. Didn’t stop him from liking how it tasted - granted he only liked the taste after an ungodly amount of cream and sugar. Sue him.

He was taking their situation with caution as of now. His brother would leave them alone for months at a time only to spring up out of nowhere. It was possible that Illumi was just laying low to throw them off his scent. It was even more possible he was going to strike at any moments notice.

But it had been too long. Too long playing this cat and mouse game. Killua hadn’t discussed it yet with Alluka, but he sensed she knew by the way she sat slightly turned in towards him, sensing his unease. Today was the day. He’d enact his plan into motion. Well, the revised version of the plan. He just hoped he could pull off step one. Which was the second hardest step in the whole process.

He crushed the feeling in his stomach that told him something was wrong. Things were going his way today whether the universe liked it or not.

Time to put step one into motion.

He had to find Biscuit Krueger.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

“ _Killua_ , let her help!”

Killua’s nose was buried in his phone’s maps as they walked along the hot Yorknew streets. He could feel civilians staring at the both of them - which, frankly, was nothing new. It wasn’t a secret to him they were good looking. He’d been told by every lover he’d ever had. Men, women, it was the same. Despite this, he was sure the stark white hair was probably what really drew their eyes.

“I’m not going to exploit Nanika, no matter how much she begs. Tell her that her big brother’s iPhone has got it under control,” Killua said easily. A lie, of course. He didn’t have one fucking clue where Bisky lived. So far they were just wandering the streets randomly. He’d never even been there. The only information he had was that he knew she had a house in the city.

Somewhere in the city.

Somewhere in huge, ginormous, colossal, Yorknew city.

He was using Gyo on his eyes, which was probably a pointless venture, considering Bisky wouldn’t be so careless to leave Nen traces and give away where she probably stored all of her expensive useless rocks.

Killua trudged to a stop and sighed. Biscuit Krueger was no common Hunter he could find at a moment’s notice. She was a cold, hardened liar who for absolute certain did not want the location of her stash to be found. Much less to be found herself. He may as well have been hunting Ging.

That train of thought sent a small and dull pang through his entire body. He squashed it.

Beside him, Alluka rocked back and forth in her dainty white sneakers. He glanced down at her and she tilted her head towards a dark alleyway and grabbed the hem of his deep navy tee shirt and tugged.

He stayed unmoving for a moment as her eyes challenged his.

Their standoff didn’t last long.

“Fuck. Fine, you win.”

Like he was ever going to find Bisky on his own. What an incredible delusion.

Killua glanced nervously around at their surroundings as they came to a stop deep into the alleyway. It was vital no one see what was about to happen. No civilians, no hunters, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this be an opening for Illumi to swoop in out of god knows where. Alluka closed her eyes.

When she opened them, crystal blue was replaced with deep, dark pits. His gaze immediately softened as it landed on her. Oh, how this girl could get what she wanted. Killua had long ago come to the conclusion the two girls were quite able in the art of manipulation. When they worked together it was mayhem. Most of the time, he was the common victim. Shoes, clothes, treats - he’d cave every time.

She may not have been trained as an assassin, but God knows would she have made a good one.

“I love Killua,” Nanika smiled. He patted her head and she pressed her hands to her cheeks bashfully.

“Yeah, yeah,”

“I’ll help Killua,” Nanika said with insistence. She took his hand and squeezed.

Killua held her gaze. He’d made it a habit _not_ to ask Nanika requests. He felt dirty doing it. Reasoning with himself, Killua knew that his reasons for finding Bisky were not selfish ones. This would benefit Alluka and Nanika too. Maybe even permanently. It needed to be done. It was time he actually did something about their shared situation.

“Okay,” Killua nodded, covering their joined hands with his other one. One request, as simple and easy as he could make it without making himself feel like the biggest cheater on the planet. He wouldn’t ask her to bring Bisky to them, or to teleport them to Bisky. The least Nen usage possible. If Illumi sensed Nanika do something requiring as much power as teleportation he’d be giving away his plan entirely. He had to be careful.

“Nanika, would you please lead the way to Biscuit Krueger?”

“‘Kay.”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

As it turned out, they hadn’t been searching in the right neighborhood. Or the right district. Or the right side of the whole fucking city.

It was dusk by the time they arrived. Halfway there the girls asked to be carried. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, it was that Alluka no longer had the body of a 12 year old. He also couldn’t risk using Godspeed, the amount of civilians around was staggering. He wasn’t about to give Illumi an excuse to find them and kill whoever was in the way.

His feet hurt.

Bisky’s townhome loomed tall and foreboding. Probably due to the Nen placed on it, Killua guessed, though he couldn’t sense any. He had to admit he was surprised with her choice. A simple townhouse in the center of middle-class Yorknew, baby pink with white detailing. It was… so obvious yet so surprising at the same time. In the middle of the street, in plain sight, meticulously painted with her signature style, yet if Nanika hadn’t just announced that they’d arrived, he wouldn’t have looked twice.

Well, this was it. No turning back now.

Slowly he slipped Alluka off of his back, her eyes long since back to the bright blue orbs to be sure no civilians saw Nanika even though she was fronting. But now, he sensed Nanika had fallen asleep and Alluka was here in her place.

Killua unconsciously brushed himself off, straightened his shirt, smoothed down his shorts, and looked down at his shoes. His sneakers were looking quite busted. So what if he liked expensive sneakers? And ruined them constantly. It was fine. That Zoldyck fashion sense was one thing he hadn’t successfully run away from yet.

And that was saying something.

“You sure she’s going to let us stay here? We could just get a hotel like usual, you know.”

“It’ll be safer here, trust me.” Killua said, taking hold of Alluka’s hand.

They climbed the small rise of stairs in front of the house. He felt Alluka’s eyes on him as he slowly raised his fist to the crisp white door. Now or never.

He knocked once.

To his surprise, they didn't have to wait long as the door opened within less than ten seconds.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t Bisky.

“Welcome, Killua. The lady of the house has been expecting you.”

Killua couldn’t stop his incredulous snort. _Lady?_ God, she was so full of it. He stared into the face of what he remembered being Bisky’s most useless the Nen ability. Some sort of massage therapist esthetician apparatus. Looking just as ridiculous as he remembered it. She smiled the fakest smile Killua had ever seen and gestured for them to come in.

Typical Bisky not to answer her own damn door.

Also typical of her to already know he was coming. She probably sensed him the moment he stepped up to her doorstep.

Killua squeezed Alluka’s hand and slowly stepped up into the doorway, his eyes not leaving the Nen apparatus as she gently and gracefully closed the door behind them. The apparatus did not speak again as she began to float down the hallway. Killua followed with Alluka trailing just a half step behind.

The inside of Bisky’s townhome was drastically different than the outside. In addition to that, it confirmed his theory that this was her storehouse for her rare jewels. Jewels in glass boxes were strategically placed around. Killua could tell without even using Gyo that the glass boxed were Nen-insured. It would take a whole tank and then some to break one. Which was probably why she felt so confident leaving them out in the open to be decorations. Killua idly wondered just how much money each one was worth.

Save for the diamonds and other more precious jewels, the interior was decorated like an old fashioned tea house. Cozy, warm, antique china closets and expensive curtains cascading to the floor. Pink, blue, green, yellow, pastels of all kinds. Foreign, handcrafted rugs. He bet everything in here would rival his own mother’s ridiculously luxurious taste.

The house was also much deeper than Killua anticipated. He felt like they were walking straight into the house for an eternity.

Suddenly, the aura apparatus walking in front crumbled and dismantled, disappearing in a wave of Nen underneath the door in front of him. Killua rolled his eyes.

“Really? All this drama isn’t like you, Grandma” He said loudly, grasping the doorknob and pushing inside.

The room he and Alluka entered was simple, small. The same waterfall curtains and plush furnishings. A baby grand piano in the corner looking quite large in this setting. A little drawing room, with a similarly small and delicately dressed girl sitting in wait for them.

Biscuit Krueger took a sip of her tea, placing the cup back on its plate. Her magenta eyes flashed as they met his icy stare,

“Killua, I’d really prefer not to beat your ass in front of your sister.”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

“So that’s how you found me? And here I thought I was untraceable.” Bisky laughed good-naturedly, reaching across the coffee table to take Alluka’s hands, “My dear, tell Nanika I’m going to be making a point of staying on her good side.”

Killua rolled his eyes.

Alluka nodded and blushed, smiling along with Bisky. Sometimes Killua wondered how she got to be so agreeable to everyone but himself.

It was maybe a little dangerous telling Bisky about Nanika, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t already caught on to them that they were hiding something. Besides, Bisky had been outside five years ago when Nanika… used her power. Though she hadn’t seen her. Biscuit was one of the only Hunters from his past that Killua kept regular contact with. If you could call every year to two years regular. Last year she’d rendezvoused with him in a remote area of the globe for some much needed training. She’d met Alluka properly then, so the two were familiar, but they’d never told her about Nanika. It was too dangerous to reach out to her to find her before just showing up on her doorstep. If all went according to plan, this entire thing would fly right under Illumi’s radar. 

Until step three, that is.

But anyway, besides Bisky, the only Hunter Killua kept regular contact with was Leorio.

What could he say? Dude was reliable as hell. Not to mention a whole Zodiac.

“So,” Bisky said, sitting back and folding her hands on her lap, her gaze finding Killua’s, “I know you’re not just here to catch up.”

“No,” Killua said carefully, “We’re not.”

Bisky gave him a look that asked him to continue. He took a deep breath,

“We need a place to stay. Alluka and I. Someplace safe.” Killua said slowly, fidgeting with the hem of his shorts, “I was hoping… we could stay… here… awhile…”

Biscuit was silent as she stared at him calculatedly. Killua knew it was a gamble. Bisky was his teacher, yes, but she was no mother with empty nest syndrome. He knew better than most people that the appearance of the 20-something-year-old girl sitting in front of him was only a disguise concealing more physical deadly strength than most people achieved over several lifetimes.

He needed to let her know there was something more going on here. Something much more pressing. He needed to tell her without letting Alluka know. Slowly, with making as little movement as possible,Killua made a pointed gesture in the direction of his sister next to him while maintaining Bisky’s stare. Her eyes flashed in realization, only lasting a second before a smile was pasted back onto her face.

“I guess I do have rooms just collecting dust, don’t I?” Bisky said, “Alluka, why don’t you let Cookie take you upstairs?”

Bisky’s aura took the shape of her nen-created massage therapist next to her, which smiled at Alluka and took her hand to lead her out the door.

“Wait, Kil-“

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Killua said easily, his eyes softening at her in earnest, “The old lady’s just gotta make sure I promise to pay her an unfair amount of money in return for waiting on us day and night. She’s greedy, you know.”

Alluka didn’t look convinced, but Cookie - what a stupid name - was already dragging her out the door. “Get us the biggest rooms! Got it?” Killua called after her.

The thumbs up as she was whisked out the door was good enough for him.

“You really haven’t changed, have you?” Bisky sighed as he turned back to face her.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Killua said, though he could feel the playful and sarcastic mood dissipating from the room as he spoke. Swallowed up in Bisky's magenta glare.

Bisky looked at him with a certain dissatisfied interest. He felt like a worm in a Petri dish under a microscope as she looked at him like that. Killua cleared his throat.

“So…”

“Yeah. So. Are you going to tell me what the hell this is about? It's not everyday I get apparent custody of two members of the most infamous assassin family that ever lived.” Bisky said cooly, “I’m not a babysitter, Killua.”

Killua rolled his eyes for the thousandth time, “She’s seventeen years old. You’re not babysitting anything.”

“I am if something is about to happen that has you both in danger.”

“We’re not-“ Killua pressed his palms against his forehead. Why did she have to be so difficult? Why was it so hard to just ask the question he came here for? “We’re not in danger.”

“Then who is?”

Oh. That wasn’t a question he was expecting.

“Listen. I need your help with something.” Killua said, exasperated, “And don’t shut me down as soon as you hear it. I’ve already asked my contact with direct information and he told me he wouldn’t tell me.”

His old teacher didn’t look impressed, “I’m assuming your contact is smart, because it sounds like I’m not going to like it either. Spit it out.”

“You asked me who was in danger,” Killua started, grasping his hands into a fist as he rested his elbows on his knees, “My brother is.”

Bisky's eyes narrowed. He’d piqued her interest, finally.

“Or, he will be. I want you to help me find the Phantom Troupe. I know you know where they are. I’m going to hire them," Killua's eyes flashed, "My brother’s in danger because I’m not running anymore. I’m going to get him. I’m going to hire the Phantom Troupe to help me kill Illumi.”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Biscuit paced back and forth behind the intricately colored sofa she’d just been sitting on.

Killua sat tensely. He knew she’d be pissed, but he’d run out of people to ask. Kurapika had basically screamed at him through the phone, telling him that he was an idiot and that the Troupe couldn’t be trusted in the first place - the chances they’d turn on him were enormous. Which was true, Killua could admit. But he’d known for a long time if he was going to kill his brother he needed insurance. If things were to go wrong in a one on one fight and Killua was killed, Alluka would be defenseless. There needed to be someone to finish the job if he couldn’t. Someone he didn’t care about. Someone who could do it and be unphased by Killua’s death, someone who could do it and Killua wouldn’t feel guilty about if they got killed.

Illumi needed to be wiped off this earth. For Alluka. For himself. He wanted to do it with his own teeth and his own hands. But...

Killua didn’t know if he could. And it was not something he was going to admit out loud.

Illumi was trash. He’d proven himself time and time again to be an enemy. Killua had accepted him as one. He needed to be eliminated. Killua was no longer the boy he’d once been, no longer filled with doubt, no longer crushed beneath a will that wasn’t his own, but nothing… nothing could change the fact that Illumi…

Biscuit's voice jolted him from his thoughts.

“What makes you think I even know where they are?” She snapped, still pacing.

“You know where everyone is,” Killua argued back, falling back against the couch across from the one Bisky had begun walking back and forth behind, “You don't need me to tell you that. Everybody knows it. You even knew I was in the city, right?”

“And what if Illumi is already working with them, huh? Ever think of that? I have information that Hisoka is working with them again. From what I know - which I’m sure you know better than me - the two of them are contacts.” Bisky waved her arms around, ignoring his question blatantly, “You could be walking right into a trap. With no backup!”

Killua was silent, leaning back to stare up at the ceiling.

“But you already know that, don’t you? Don’t be a fool, boy,” Bisky came back around the sofa and sat down across from him, shaking her head in exasperation, “You’re smarter than this.”

“I’m not gonna ask again.” Killua said, “Don’t make it a big deal. You know I have to do this.”

He lowered his head to face towards her again. Bisky’s eyes were like a fire. Deep pink, bright, alive and angry.

"And you're sure this is what you want?"

Killua nodded tersely. She threw her hands in the air exasperatedly and shook her head, looking down at her hands.

“Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. But only on two conditions,” Bisky sighed, straightening her shoulders and staring daggers into his soul, holding two fingers up, “One: you get a good nights sleep before doing anything, and two: I get to do whatever measures I think are necessary without compromising your mission.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just don’t get in my way.” Her stalling was going to make him poke his own two eyeballs out.

Biscuit paused a moment before she stood and walked over to a window, leaning on the inside ledge, looking out of the glass into the street, “The Phantom Troupe is in the city right now, so it looks like it’s your lucky day.” She said finally, “I’ll stay here and make sure your brother isn’t going to pull a fast one on your sister as soon as you leave the premises. And I’ll be sending a contact of mine to shadow you. You won’t even see him unless things go south. This is final.”

Killua only nodded. Bisky’s informant tailing him wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe an audience would be fun. He hadn’t expected that the Troupe would be in the city, but it didn’t matter. Yorknew was as good a place as anywhere. Although, he’d be lying if he said learning of their close vicinity wasn’t setting his nerves on fire and threatening to send sparks out of his fingertips.

They were so close.

And so was Illumi.

The danger could be imminent if he’d made even one mistake. He’d taken precautions to make sure he handn’t mentioned this to anyone except Kurapika on a burner phone he’d destroyed immediately after the conversation. Not even Alluka knew any of this. For all she knew they really had only come to Biscuit’s for a place to stay. Illumi would be completely blindsided.

Blindsided, and then he’d be dead. Dead and gone and maybe his family would even thank him for it.

Then Killua could get on with his fucking life. Five years was a long time to be moving new places every few months. He and Alluka had even finished high school online rather than in person because of the constant moves.

If this couldn’t be solved civilly, Killua would solve it the way he solved most things from ages four to twelve.

He stood, giving Bisky a nod before making his way to the door Alluka had gone through about a half hour before.

“I’ll get their exact location from you tomorrow before dawn,” Killua said blankly as he paused with his hand on the doorknob, “Tell your informant that I won’t be waiting for him.”

He didn’t bother with a thank you. Thank you’s were for strangers and acquaintances. It was something he’d stuck with from all those years ago.

As Killua slipped out the door into the deep hallway, he didn’t see Bisky silently pull her cell phone from her pocket. Eyes focused out into the nighttime streets, the Double Star Hunter stood still as a doe, cellphone ringing softly in her tightening grasp. Her body language unreadable.

The sudden, jarring, quiet indicated the recipient of the call had picked up.

A beat of cold, still silence.

Biscuit opened her mouth and spoke smoothly, quietly,

“Gon. It’s me. We need to talk.”


	2. and it ends with a touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to preface this chapter with a warning that it does contain graphic violence and very brief non-consensual sexual themes and descriptions.

The early morning felt heavy. Heavy in his bones, his skin, his hair. His light tank top seemed to weigh him down, down, down. Killua looked at his palm where he’d written the directions and exact address of the destination Bisky had given him not five minutes ago. Using his phone’s maps would only slow him down. He closed his hand into a fist.

Killua stood atop the his master's townhome that he and Alluka had slept in the night before. That Alluka was still sleeping in. The sun’s rays hadn’t even touched the high rise buildings yet, the city floating in those few minutes of limbo between night and morning. His body felt alien to him, yet looking at his arms, Killua could tell they were the ones he’d carried with him his whole life. These arms were capable of so much. Of holding another person softly, of tearing through flesh and bone. It would be romantic if the thought didn’t turn his guts.

He could tell Bisky’s informant wasn’t here yet.

Oh, well. His loss.

Killua felt his brain delay in processing as one second he was standing still and the next he was leaping across townhome roofs and tops of apartment complexes. He was of no obligation to wait around. He’d prefer if whatever useless goon she’d sent stayed out of the way, anyway. One less body for him to worry about.

He didn’t waste any time kicking Godspeed into gear. No suppressing his aura today. Killua’s nerves surged to life as he bolted across the city over the rooftops. This was it. It would end today. _Today_. One way or another. If he died in the process, oh well. Oh well, at least Alluka would be free. At least… at least Killua would be free, too.

Free from what, though, exactly? The life he’d been forced to live? His past? Illumi himself? Maybe all three? There was no way to know for sure. But his doubts would be answered in due time. He’d know, soon enough.

It was this pocket of time before sunrise that the city was always the darkest. He remembered that from when he’d been here for the Auction years ago. The lights that had danced all throughout the night seemed to be snuffed out in anticipation of the rising sun. Like they couldn’t bear its presence, couldn’t help but hide in the face of the majesty of it all. He knew because there had been a time he’d felt the exact same way.

A time that felt so long ago, so cold, so beyond his fingertips. Killua knew if he let himself linger in that space long enough, it would burn just as hot as the day he had first held the sun in his hands.

So he wouldn’t.

He looked at the writing on his palm to be sure he was headed the right way.

It was then that the building in question came into view. Killua could sense it was the one immediately as his nostrils flared and the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. He came to a stop right in front of it. Tall, broken down. A tan colored stucco apartment building looking like it hadn’t had any proper attention or maintenance in at least twenty years. Killua could see walls missing as he peered upwards. The shady part of town he was in now would guarantee he’d attract unwanted attention if he stayed outside much longer. The desolate street smelled of garbage, piss, and wood rot. Killua took a breath of the hot damp air before pushing his way through the door hanging half off its hinges.

Leave it to the Troupe to stay classy. He’d met the dangerous man behind this operation, once, and Killua had been left wondering if Chrollo was really all there. There had certainly been a reason his father had ordered them all to stay away. People like Chrollo were unpredictable. Dangerous.

“Show yourselves!” Killua barked into the dark interior. Rats scurried beneath his feet at the sound. “Don’t make me come find you!”

Nothing. It figures. Killua huffed and took to the thin staircase on the right side, climbing it steadily, confidently. Hands deep in the pockets of his black basketball shorts. He couldn’t afford to show weakness. Weakness in this situation would seal his fate. He’d be just like rotten meat in a swarm of flies.

He reached the second floor, light pouring in from the opposing wall where it was almost completely missing.

Killua sensed he was not alone.

“I know you're here. I have a job for you.” Kilua showed his empty hands to the room to demonstrate his lack of aggression, “Do what I ask and you’ll have all the cash you’ve ever wanted. Let’s talk business.”

Movement in the darkest corner of the room. Someone was sitting there. He tracked the movement easily as it melted into a shape, which molded into a person, as it stepped into the light.

Long, dark unnaturally mauve locks, and a pattern of now-visible Nen threads crisscrossing intricately around the room, around his legs, right in front of his face.

With one movement all the threads pulled taunt, one slicing a line into Killua’s left calf.

“All the cash we’ve ever wanted? Big words. _Let’s talk business_ , then, shall we?” Machi said.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The Troupe’s hiding place was really nothing special, just the attic of the shithole they’d decided to call home base for now. Machi lead him in. Surprisingly, she hadn’t bound his hands or feet, and he could spot some familiar faces around. Some unfamiliar, too. He recognized some more members who’s names he vaguely remembered. Phinks. Feitan. They eyed him closely, most likely giving him the time of day only because he was choosing not to hide his Nen.

“Kid says he’s got business.” Machi deadpanned as she shoved him. Killua felt all eyes train onto him.

“I know this one. This is the guy Kalluto’s been looking for.”

Killua whirled his head around to face the sudden voice from behind him. Thin, tall guy with a ponytail. Well, Killua remembered him as being tall. Looking at him now, Killua was probably taller. Nobunaga, his brain reminded him. Killua stayed silent.

So it was true. Kalluto was part of the troupe now. Killua had heard the rumor about his little brother four years ago, but he hadn’t known Kalluto was looking for him. Maybe he and Alluka really were just too good at hiding.

“He’s not here?” Killua asked pensively. He used the opportunity to feign looking around for his youngest sibling, who he knew he would not find in this room. He'd use this opportunity to look for someone different. Much different. A person whose presence in the past soothed him just as much as it deeply disturbed him. A person he actually thought was dead before last night Bisky had implied otherwise.

_There._

Sitting against a dark wall, uninterestedly flipping through three separate cards in his hands. Impossible amount of bungee gum aura used to make his hair slick back like that. Ugliest fucking outfit to date. Hisoka. Complete with face paint and long, sharp nails that reflected the morning light pouring in through the few windows in the attic. Undoubtedly alive.

Killua would, unfortunately, probably recognize him no matter what ugly form he took.

Hisoka’s presence usually played out well for Killua, at least it had in the past, if you could disregard the million times Killua wanted to crawl out of his own skin under that dude’s gaze. Regardless of the history, he couldn’t afford to make mistakes. Especially with Hisoka’s relationship with his brother at the forefront of his mind. The clown just couldn’t be trusted.

Especially not now. Now, the circumstances were different. Now it could be open season on his ass if he wasn’t careful. Killua was no longer attached at the hip to the object of Hisoka’s highest affections.

He felt a dull ache through his bones. Killua swallowed it down.

This may be a problem.

“He’s off with the boss, kid, sorry if you were hoping to catch him around,” Nobunaga shrugged, “I asked you to join us once, remember? I’d love to see a fight between the two of you. Find out if we got the better Zoldyck.”

Killua forced himself not to feel nauseous about a hardened criminal talking about Kalluto as if he were some kind of pet. He was glad Kalluto wasn’t here. He was glad his little brother wouldn’t have to see him tear their shared oldest brother from limb to limb.

“Well, as it so happens, I have something better.” Killua offered.

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“How’d you like to see another Zoldyck battle, huh?” Killua grinned, knowing he’d gotten their attention. He took two enormous wads of cash bundled up in rubber bands out of his pockets, “Illumi Zoldyck. Me versus him. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the entertainment.”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Not long now.

Step. Breathe. Calm.

Step. Dead. Empty. Step.

Killua was calm. Calmer than he’d anticipated he’d be. Calm like he wanted to be. Calm like he should be.

He’d never be rid of the killer instinct branded to his soul. Never, not now, not tomorrow, not for the rest of his life. He’d accepted it. And now, today, for this moment in time, he embraced it. Illumi had brought this version of himself into the world, and today, God, today, this version would be the one to take his big brother right out of it.

It was the only way. The only way, way, way. Killua repeated it to himself like a prayer. A prayer on the Rosary up and down the empty pews. Except today, his Rosary was his own hand twisted up into sharp claws, and his pews were the empty dilapidated shack houses lining the streets of the underbelly of Yorknew City. Today, his prayer was like this, like it had been everyday, since the day he was born until the day he’d crashed into the sun at twelve years old. Today he would be a killer. Today he would turn on his switch. He’d be the killer that he hadn’t been in years.

It was the only way.

Without his deep, buried mechanism he’d fall short. Without it, he’d fall short every time when it came to his opponent today.

Step. Breathe. Calm.

Step. Dead. Empty. Step.

The heaviness he’d felt this morning was gone. Killua’s body felt light. Light, reactive, alive. He let his bloodlust flow freely. The Troupe members walking alongside and around him had unconsciously widened their berth. Killua’s show of his Nen had worked like a charm. An aura spike prickled Killua’s skin from miles away. Bloodlust answers bloodlust, after all.

Illumi

Of course he wasn’t far away. He certainly knew they were coming by now. Killua had made a point not to hide himself this morning. He wanted Illumi to draw closer. Killua would be a fool not to expect his older brother to have known his fate from the moment he stepped into the Troupe’s waiting mouth.

Step again.

Yeah. Illumi was in on the game now. 

He silently counted the Troupe members accompanying him. Machi, Nobunaga, the girl with the vacuum cleaner ability Killua could not recall the name of, a person he did not recognize, and Hisoka.

Step.

Hisoka… couldn’t be trusted.

The clown’s presence was the one thing that seemed off, the one thing Killua hadn’t totally accounted for before Bisky mentioned it. He’d accounted for everything, he thought. For the Troupe to turn on him, for his own death.

The other members of the Troupe were pointedly not walking near him. Something was off, and Killua mentally cursed himself for not realizing it before. Hisoka’s presence here only made sense because he’d worked with the Troupe before, right? How did that end, anyway? Did they leave on good terms? Or bad ones? He’d never actually taken the time to ponder it.

He should have asked Bisky. She probably had no reason to believe Killua _didn’t_ know the ins and outs of that situation. It had happened before he met her, after all. He’d been so focused on Illumi. In Killua’s minds eye he felt every step Hisoka took. Fuck. _Fuck._

Step.

Killua felt a cold sweat down his spine. He was sure he had a plan for everything.

He hadn’t come up with a plan to face an Illumi that had _Hisoka_ to back him up. _Plus_ the Phantom Troupe.

The Troupe by themselves wouldn’t be that much of a problem if it turned out Illumi somehow paid them off. All he had to do was slit Illumi’s throat and they’d cease their attack. Without an employer, they held no loyalties. He wouldn’t get the luxury of giving Illumi a long, drawn out death, but he almost preferred this hypothetical situation. This was, however, only the case if Illumi had caught on and hired them before Killua did. And, only the case if Killua was able to kill him that fast.

Hisoka was a whole different beast. One with a hunger for blood and no qualms about a fight with no compensation. Hisoka hadn’t crossed his mind even once. In fact, before yesterday, Killua actually thought he had been killed.

Step.

No. It was fine. Silently, he cursed how worked up he was getting. He was fucking Killua Zoldyck. It wasn’t a big deal. He could handle it. There was no turning back now. He knew this was a gamble from the moment he’d decided on it.

Killua came to a stop, dust swirling around his ankles as he raised his chin to look up at the building in front of them. A big, stone gray warehouse factory. Abandoned, from the looks of it, just like everything else within a few miles. A stray cat disappeared into a small hole near a rusted metal door.

Killua took a deep breath. Calm.

“Well? Need us to let you inside, or what?” Phinks snickered, moving past Killua to approach the door, which was undoubtedly locked from the inside.

Killua let no emotion cross his face as Phinks pulled it right off the hinges, and fell silently into line as they all followed the thief inside.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The inside of the warehouse was damp, dark, and smelled strongly of mold. High beams and rafters way up at the ceiling, accompanied by big dusty windows, metal walkways near the ceilings, and enormous fans that obviously hadn’t been turned on in years. Killua idly wondered if Bisky’s informant would be watching from up there.

The members of the troupe’s footsteps were loud, echoing off metal walls and ancient cast iron machinery. Killua’s were silent. So quiet a regular human ear would never be able pick up the sound. Even trained Hunters wouldn’t ever hear him coming.

Step.

Dust bunnies jumped and swayed in front of Killua’s eyes. He felt he could see the future within the next few moments as the belly of the dark warehouse floor came into view. The future was wide, compressing, suffocating. The future had sharp, sharp claws. Sharp, sharp teeth. The future had long dark hair, and cold, dead eyes.

The future took essence in a long-legged figure in dark, crisp tailored clothing, seated unmoving on the cold floor.

The future then, smooth like water, graceful like a wild animal, began to rise to his feet.

The future length of skin where Killua’s claws would find their mark illuminated in the dull sunlight pouring from dusty skylights.

The world compressed into a fish eye lens.

Unluckily for Illumi, Killua too had sharp, sharp claws. Sharp, sharp teeth. Cold, dead eyes.

Killua blasted across the room within a half second. Time compressed. It was the only way. This was the only way.

Illumi’s black eyes absorbed him.

Switch on.

He ducked in the last second as a single needle sailed straight over his head. Lightning strike right towards Illumi’s heart. He’d dodged. Chase. Kick. Block. Miss. Everything was moving so fast. Illumi’s long arm reached out towards the soft skin over his trachea but Killua was no longer the child he’d once been. Killua easily pushed Illumi’s arm upwards and sunk his claws and ripped up, up, up Illumi’s arm, tendons snapping, muscle destroyed, and arm dislocated in a sick loud pop.

Blood hit the floor at the same second the metallic scent struck deep into Killua’s nostrils. He’d made the first hit. Killua felt like he was floating. Eyes from all sides of the room watching calculatedly, carefully.

Electricity surged through his fingertips. Godspeed.

Not quick enough. Illumi was on him even before his senses registered it, punching him square in the stomach, hard. Killua flew backwards, tumbling across the ground and crashing to a stop against the opposing wall.

“Killu, I could tell you were really trying to kill me there!” Illumi exclaimed, shaking out his fist and taking a moment to look at his ruined left arm, “This is going to take forever to heal.”

Killua groaned and pushed himself to sitting and then to standing. Without his Nen he’d be squashed like a bug against that wall right now. “Shut the fuck up,” He breathed.

No time to catch his breath. Killua surged towards him again, clawed hands poised. He feigned, Illumi twisted, catching a lucky and deep cut above Killua’s kneecap. Not good enough. Killua sent a leg flying at Illumi’s stomach. Bad move. Illumi seemed to anticipate this and let the kick make contact, winding his good arm around Killua’s leg and holding tight. Killua flailed, all claws and teeth, before a strong leg stomped hard into his back, knocking the wind straight out of him and pinning him to the hard floor.

Killua’s head hit the floor with a wet smack. His vision split into three, he tasted blood.

He heard voices. Light shuffling of feet. Killua strained to look but he was again slammed back down, vision swimming. Fuck. What was happening. Who was moving? Was the Phantom Troupe intervening? Where they turning on him? Killua dislocated his own shoulder and plunged his clawed hand above his back at Illumi’s leg holding him down. He caught deep into the tissue on his older brother’s calf, blood quickly soaking his hand, but the leg stayed unmoving.

“That hurts, Killua.” Illumi said darkly, without inflection, and then to the source of the shuffling feet, “Would you get moving? You work too slow.”

Killua’s breath heightened dramatically as he felt his arms roughly pulled away from Illumi’s calf and then together behind his back. A pin prick, then more, up and down both of his arms, painfully being pulled together. Again, at his ankles. Pushed side by side, pin pricks pulling the thin skin there with a pain that felt sick, inhumane. He knew this Nen.

It dawned on him with a wave of nausea. He was being sewn together.

“There you go. Arms and ankles, as requested.” Machi’s voice sounded bored from behind and above him.

What the fuck. _What was happening._

“If you’re going to have them kill me, do it already!” Killua screeched, struggling again and twisting himself to look straight up at Illumi awkwardly from the floor, “You know why I’m here! Stop playing!”

Illumi looked surprised, “Killu, you seem to have the wrong idea,” He shrugged, “I didn’t hire these guys.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Hisoka did.”

Silence.

“Yeah, Sorry, kid, but we’re keeping your money. I’ll tell Kalluto we saw ya. Don’t die before he finds you, alright?” Phinks ducked his head into Killua’s mortified view to wave and smile before disappearing.

Killua breathed slow, heavy. Trying not to hyperventilate. The sound of footsteps fading out of his peripheral.

“Kalluto, huh?” Illumi seemed to be talking to himself above, and then changed his voice to be directed up into the rafters, “Okay, you win, Hisoka, so here.”

Killua needed to get control of the situation. Quickly. He flailed as Illumi suddenly dropped the leg he’d had an iron grip on and lifted the foot off his back,

“Oops. Your shirt’s all bloody. Sorry.”

He sat up with haste, hissing as his attempt to pull his arms apart sent sharp pain along his arms and legs. This was not good. The Phantom Troupe was nowhere to be seen. Killua’s head hurt like a bitch, a stinging above his eyebrow told him he’d split the skin along his temple when Illumi had held him down. He needed a plan, and fast.

A plan.

No plan was coming to mind.

He had no idea what was happening. He needed a quick shot at Illumi. Killua turned wildly towards his brother to find he’d gone to sit over by the wall and wrap up his destroyed arm. Killua felt anger, confusion, boil up in his stomach.

“You’ve grown up to be a real feisty one, haven’t you?” A sweet, low, sultry voice carried to him from behind. Tearing his gaze from Illumi, Killua felt the world crashing down as he whipped his head around to see Hisoka approaching calmly, stealthily. Like a wolf.

Killua shut his mouth and seethed in defiance, cold deep blue eyes flashing. No fucking way he was about to get killed like this, and by this person. This was not in the plan. Where did he go wrong? How could he have missed this?

Hisoka knelt down in front of him, dangerous aura bubbling up out of his skin like a hot kettle with too much water, “Not even fully ripe yet. A shame.”

Killua lurched forwards and sank his teeth deep into the clown’s jugular. Clean, crisp. Blood filled his mouth but Killua held fast. Cats had teeth. No claws, no problem. Anyone who forgot that deserved to be bitten.

Except, Hisoka’s reaction wasn’t one Killua was anticipating. Instead of pulling away, flinching, or even reacting, he just sat still as Killua dug his teeth in further, further. Slowly, he grabbed Killua by the hair and pulled him off, laughing dryly. Killua’s eyes widened as the wound on Hisoka’s neck wasn’t nearly the fatal blow he previously believed it was. He panicked quietly. What was this guy made of, steel?

“You see, Killua, why don't I explain to you what's going on here?” Hisoka leaned in, pulling Killua’s head back painfully by the handful of his hair he held to expose his neck, “Your dear brother and I made a bet,” He breathed hotly onto the soft skin there, “He bet that you’d just go after him yourself without any outsiders to protect you, and I bet that he was wrong. So, I hired the Phantom Troupe to play along when you came wandering into the snake’s den. Winning always guarantees a prize, you know.”

To Killua’s shock and horror, Hisoka then licked a long line from his collarbone to the shell of his earlobe, “I guess you could say I won.”

Killua blinked wildly, he felt sick, nauseous. What was this. He sat still, stunned, like a wild rabbit in the face of imminent death, eyes wide. Hisoka kissed his way to the nape of Killua’s neck as he dragged a sharp, long nail from his chest down. Down, down, down, drawing blood. Killua stopped breathing as Hisoka pressed his hand to the front of his groin over his pants.

“With your own brother in the room?” Hisoka made a _tsk_ -ing sound.Killua painfully sucked in air as the man dragged his sharp nail back up over the thin wound once more. “You like it rough, huh, Killua?”

Hisoka chuckled softly.

“I bet the one watching is quite jealous, right now. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The one watching? Who? Illumi? Killua's eyes flickered over to where Illumi was still giving his injured arm his full attention. 

The nauseating pinch of the love bite Hisoka then placed on Killua’s nape to punctuate his sentence was enough to jolt his motor neurons back to life.

“You’re disgusting! Get off of me!” Killua fell backwards and pulled his ankles apart, hard, blocking out the pain. Blood droplets sprayed out as he ripped the Nen stitches as well as his own skin. He violently kicked at Hisoka’s face, making contact and sending the man backwards to the floor. Killua scrambled awkwardly to his feet, arms still painfully locked together, face bright red, “Freak! I’ll kill you!”

Within a second Killua was slammed back to the cold floor on his back, arms painfully pinned under the arch of his back. The wind was knocked out of him once more as Hisoka punched him square in the jaw. Killua was still blinking stars out of his eyes when he felt the fabric of his tank top being ripped and sliced right off his body.

“That’s enough.”

Illumi’s voice. Killua used the distraction to his advantaged and kicked off the floor to slide and roll away from where Hisoka was standing over him, slipping a bit on the floor bloodied from the wounds on his ankles.

“I told you you could torture him if you won, nothing else.” Illumi’s aura was black, seeping. Even though it wasn’t directed at him, it invaded Killua’s lungs with a suffocating, familiar pressure, “We’re going to have to talk about your behavior later. He’s mine.”

Hisoka simply shrugged, apparently accepting of Illumi’s disruption, “Oh. Sorry!” He said. He did not look sorry in the slightest.

Killua stared daggers with his dead, dead eyes as Illumi approached him. The room shrunk. His throat felt dry. Humiliation burned all over his body. The situation was changing forms by the second.

“Killua, you know the price family members pay when they attempt to kill each other,” Illumi said easily, like he was just striking up a regular conversation. His body language, on the other hand, said differently. Illumi’s hand was around his neck, lifting Killua to his feet before he could register the movement, “You’re coming home with me.”

Killua reacted quickly, aiming a lightning-charged kick at Illlumi’s stomach. Solid hit. Illumi coughed wetly, but brought his arm down hard on Killua’s kneecap. The two tumbled to the ground and Illumi slammed his own knee right into Killua’s nose.

Illumi jabbed again, this time a sharp claw dug deep into Killua’s shoulder. Elbow to the head. In an explosive, sudden movement Killua tore his bruised and cramping arms away from each other, Nen stitches stretching and snapping. His pale skin on his arms ruined. Bloody, messy. Illumi looked surprised long enough for Killua to jab his claws at his older brothers eyes.

Contact. Wet pop.

Killua skidded away. He crushed the eyeball he held in his hand with a single squeeze, dropping it wetly onto the warehouse floor.

Illumi stood tall as ever, across the room from him. Genuine surprise crossing his face. Hand covering his now empty eye socket.

Maybe now he’d realize Killua was not fucking around.

“Neither of us are going home,” Killua breathed, “I’m going to kill you. If you don’t like it, you’d better kill me first.”

“But Kil,” Illumi said in genuine puzzlement, which Killua wanted to smack off his face so, so badly, “I’m not going to kill you.”

Killua wanted to scream. This was why, this was why Illumi had to go. While he was alive Killua would never be free. The family couldn’t convince him, nobody could stop him.

Illumi didn’t want to kill him, Killua knew he didn’t necessarily even want to hurt him, he just… wanted to keep him. With a greed that must have been born into his soul straight from hell. Which, in its own way, was so, so much worse.

Killua had come to the horrifying conclusion, after years of wanting and wanting to deny it, to believe it wasn’t true. But Killua was done denying, done escaping, done trying to convince himself he could outrun everything in his life, including this curse tailored specifically for him by the devil himself.

While Illumi lived Killua would never belong to himself.

“Besides,” Illumi brushed back his long, black hair with his free hand and gave a little smile, devious, disturbing, “You won’t kill me. You can’t.”

The blood loss was making him lightheaded, emotional. The blood flowing freely from the wounds on his arms was warm and sticky. Killua felt thirteen again as tears began to prick behind his eyes.

He was going to run out of aura. Fast.

The room felt cold and empty. Hisoka was gone. Where he went, Killua didn’t care. Having Illumi alone was better, anyway. He couldn’t focus on anything else if he tried.

But he’d lost a lot of blood. He could feel it. He needed to pull this off, and soon.

Only one visible route of action. Killua rushed again, claws outstretched, the last of his Nen in the form of sizzling lighting at his fingertips. Illumi caught him by the wound on his shoulder and sent another fist flying right into his face. Killua hit the floor and curled in on himself violently as Illumi kicked him in the stomach, hard.

“You know why?”

How could this be happening.

Another kick, aimed at his ribs this time. A new, deep slash across his chest blossomed red, stinging violently. No air. Illumi was on top of him now, wide hands wringing his neck. Killua tried to gasp, failing.

“Because you belong to me.”

He was so sure. So sure he could win.

Illumi’s words swam in his brain.

Was he really this weak?

If he…if he couldn’t do it…Bisky’s guy would finish off Illumi, right? Right? He felt like he could smell his own death. Overwhelming. Killua couldn’t sense another living thing for miles.

Maybe Bisky's guy was already dead. Maybe Hisoka killed him.

Spots danced in Killua’s vision. Illumi’s face above him was bloody, his deep empty eye socket blending in uniformly with the black holes in Killua’s field of view. No air, no air, no air. Every time he tried to push upwards, Illumi’s arms would shove him back down, head slamming against the floor. He couldn’t afford to pass out.

Slam again.

Darkness.

The floor felt like nothing.

And suddenly, the suffocating weight on his chest was gone. Gone like a butterfly lifting gently off his skin. The weight crushing his trachea dissipating like sand.

He floated there.

Ringing sound.

Everything felt so cold.

Something was happening, not two feet away. Killua heard himself groan as he curled in on himself, coughing, gasping, gasping. All he could do was lay and gasp, and lay and gasp until his lungs would accept the oxygen.

He heard unmistakable sound of the cracking of ribs. Killua turned lethargically. Where was he? What was happening? He was so tired. Everything was dark, blurry. He wanted to sleep.

Killua could make out two figures, not far from himself. Fighting? Why were they fighting? His mother would be angry, if his brothers were fighting. 

He tried to push himself to sit, but his arms felt like jelly. He dizzily looked at them. Why was his skin all ripped up? Killua put a hand to his chest. It felt so wet. Why? Where was his shirt? Did he fall asleep during a torture session? If he did, he’d be punished.

Several impossibly huge smashing sounds. They enveloped all of his senses. Killua tried to look again. Bright lights danced in his vision. Red, orange, yellow. Bright, bright explosions of warmth and color. He wanted to touch them. So familiar. Like a dream. Yeah, that’s what this was. A dream.

Voice calling his name. He knew that voice. A little different than it used to sound. A voice like a far off memory he kept locked up tight in a box in the corner of his brain. But it couldn’t be real, oh no, so it made sense he was dreaming.

Someone was grabbing his shoulders. The cold floor fell away. Suddenly, Killua was floating way high off the ground, pressed to something warm. Something warm that smelled like cinnamon apple oak trees. Like charcoal fires and roasted almonds in July. Vegetation-rich seawater. Fresh laundry. Safety.

Killua let go and allowed himself to sink into unconsciousness.

He always liked when bad dreams turned into good ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely want to say a disclaimer that the Nen stitches up the arms and legs are not my original idea! I honestly can't remember where I first saw it but I have always loved how scary and disturbing the idea of it is.


	3. and i know that you're clever

The first thing Killua could sense when his eyes drifted open was warmth.

Warm, soft linen, just under his fingertips. Puffy down blankets tucked tightly around around him, all the way up to his chin, pressed up around his cheeks. Peaceful, the scenery coming into Killua’s realm of consciousness slow like a lazy winding river.

A window, open just a third, white sheer curtains blowing steadily with the comfortable summer breeze. The breeze brushed Killua’s white strands sleepily along the equally white pillow. It seemed to massage his scalp. Just like a long forgotten memory of his childhood, laying all curled up and small like a cat in his big, big bed while his big brother read him his favorite adventure stories. Window open wide for the gentle summer wind. A treat for doing so well during training. It felt incredible. Killua let his eyes drift shut again.

His big brother… there was something Killua felt like he was forgetting about him. Just out of reach.

The thought quickly dissolved from his mind with the predominant color in the room quickly taking up all his attention.

White, white, white. So much of it. Was he allowed to exist in a world like this? Maybe, with his hair, he could blend right in and nobody would ever know. Killua found himself letting out a breathy and quiet laugh.

He shifted, pulling his hands to his face to rub his eyes. One of them was very tender. He felt a sting by his temple. Killua winced and squinted, shifting to sit up.

It was then that he realized everything ached. Horribly.

At the sensation, awareness flooded in like a dam had burst. The pain proved to be deeply sobering. He pulled his arm out from under the covers to find it completely covered in bandages, and then checked the other one and found it identical. Touching a hand to his chest, Killua felt it covered in what he immediately recognized as surgical tape. Lots of it. The heavy duty kind.

The details of the room Killua found himself in also flooded his senses at the same time. It appeared to be a typical single queen-bed hotel room. White pillows, white sheets. A chair next to the bed and lots and lots of medical gauze and tape on the nightstand. Next to the gauze and tape, a bundle of nicely folded fresh clothing. A small green pack on the far side of the room. The side of the bed next to Killua was carefully made, pillow fluffed and all. But he knew someone had been sleeping there. He knew because the sheets smelled vaguely of oak wood. Cinnamon apples.

Killua suddenly became hyper aware of sound as he recognized the noise of a shower being turned off. He hadn't even been lucid to the sound of water until it was gone. Killua whirled his head around to the noise. The doorknob to the hotel’s bathroom door on the far side of the room turned slowly.

Killua had always been able to piece together the puzzle pretty easily.

Green pack. Cinnamon apples.

Images of Killua’s world from the last thing he could remember being conscious for crashed down into the forefront of his brain.

Illumi. The Phantom Troupe. Hisoka. Blood, teeth, claws. Pain. Static. Stitches.

And,

The door swung open in slow motion. The one standing in the doorway was a person Killua knew to be only a few months older than himself. Bright green shorts over muscled, tan thighs. Bare, broad chest with a towel hung over the back of his neck. Water droplets still trailing down his abs only to be absorbed in the fabric of the single, obviously hastily thrown-on, article of clothing. Arms thick and just as toned as Killua remembered, no, even more so, if possible. Achingly familiar deep dark hair dripping and drooping wetly.

Killua would know him in another lifetime. Another universe.

Blue eyes met honey brown.

Gon.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

“Killua! You’re awake! I’m not sure Leorio will like that Killua woke up before he’s supposed to,” Gon exclaimed in a voice much deeper than Killua remembered, with a wildly familiar speech pattern, talking quickly, taking the towel and rubbing his hair with it. His muscles flexed. Killua’s eyes went straight to the motion. “I told him it wasn’t enough tranquilizer. Oh, darn it, you’re bleeding again.”

Killua just stared. He was staring and he knew it.

Gon Freeccs. _Gon Freeccs_. Right in front of him. Looking… well, looking so toned and grown up Killua felt like he couldn’t process the changes he was looking at all at the same time. Tall, but Killua knew he still had a few good inches on him. Muscled, but nothing like the version that had plagued his dreams for the past five years. Killua would question if he was dreaming but his body was in way too much pain for that to be true. He’d imagined this moment so many times before. But in this scenario? Never. Killua felt like he needed to swallow. Gon was rustling now through his green pack on the floor.

Wait. Tranquilizer?

“Uh. Wait,” Killua finally forced himself to speak, shaking his head a tiny bit to try to screw it back on straight. His brain felt foggy, slow, “You… tranquilized me?”

“Oh yeah…uh,” Gon stood, small industrial bandaid looking tiny in his fingers, suddenly looking sheepish. An expression Killua found wildly familiar on a face that seemed so alien compared to it. “Killua woke up on the way to the hotel, he was really confused, and he - you started trying to fight and - well, Leorio and I didn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself, so…”

Killua noticed the claw marks on the black haired man’s chest and arms. Faint, faded, the telltale sign of expedited Nen healing. Guilt and self consciousness washed over him like an ocean wave. Gon approached and before Killua could protest he was pressing the bandaid over his temple where he’d disrupted a wound a few minutes prior. So gentle. Too gentle. The spots on Killua’s skin where Gon’s fingers made contact felt like they had caught fire.

Leorio’s presence explained the professionally done bandages covering up and down his arms and various other places on his body.

But that didn’t explain why Killua was in a hotel room he still didn’t know the name or location of.

And why Gon. _Gon_ of all people on this huge green earth, was here.

Killua had a feeling he knew why. The reason had his blood starting to rise to a boil at a certain blonde-haired female Nen master.

Gon, seeming to sense the other’s unrest, backed away and stood by the window, chewing on the inside of his lip. He looked like he was getting ready to say something.

“Killu-“

“You’re Bisky’s guy. She said she was going to send someone to tail me. It was you.” Killua stated, inflectionless. Matter-of-factly. Gon sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Frustratingly, his expression was one Killua found hard to read.

“Killua should not be angry,” Gon said slowly after a moment, as if having prepared for this. He was not meeting Killua’s gaze, like he was choosing his words very carefully, “It’s, um, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated.” Killua said back, feeling an old anger deep in his stomach flare, “So, are you the guy, or not?”

“Bisky sent me to follow you, and-“

“And you took it upon yourself to get all up in my business,” Killua snapped, cutting Gon off harshly. He felt hot. The words just kept falling out, “After years of no contact, you just decide hey, why don’t I throw myself in the middle of something that has absolutely nothing to do with me.”

Gon’s eyes flashed once, and then were unreadable.

“No. And I didn’t want to, but I’m glad I did.” Gon said steadily. If Killua’s words affected the Hunter at all beyond that split second, he couldn’t tell.

Killua stared daggers. He felt hot, messy, childish, under Gon’s calm, unreadable honey gaze. He didn’t want this to go this way, but he just couldn’t stop and he didn’t want to. Killua knew bitterly in the back of his mind it was Gon who had come to his defense in the warehouse, how and what exactly happened were two huge fucking mysteries, but right now that didn’t matter. Because he stubbornly wasn’t going to ask. Even if not knowing was killing him from the inside out.

No matter how much his heart had ached and ached, longing for this moment, there were things that hurt. Things he’d known for a long time would be uncovered with that longing when the time came. Horrible, gut-wrenching memories right next to the very ones he held to his chest most dearly. He just hadn’t expected all of that emotion to come bubbling up at once.

“Fuck this,” Killua scoffed, throwing the covers off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Bad move. Killua involuntarily winced, and grabbed the clean white shirt off the bedside table, pulling it over his head in a painful motion that he refused to let Gon see the extent of. Boxers and thin white undershirt was going to have to be the outfit. His shorts were nowhere in sight and he wasn’t about to go looking for them. Besides, he’d already spent too much time away. Alluka needed him.

Gon watched him closely, looking like he had about a thousand words on the tip of his tongue. Why not just say them? The Gon that Killua knew held nothing back. This quiet Gon was confusing, and pissing him off. Killua pushed himself up off the bed.

“Killua probably shouldn’t stand up,” Gon warned.

Killua ignored him, now standing upright. He was going to beat the shit out of Bisky. What the hell was she thinking, sending _Gon_ after him? On top of that, the blank in his memory from the battle at the warehouse was beginning to be extremely troubling. If Illumi had managed to escape, he was in big trouble. So was Alluka. He took a step towards the door.

His legs gave out.

A strong, tan arm kept him from crashing to the floor in an instant. Killua made an extremely undignified squeak as a hand braced his shoulder and the other curled its way around the back of his waist to hold fast onto his hip. Gon slowly helped him sit upright on the floor. Killua could feel his face burning. He refused to look at the other Hunter whose eyes he could feel trained closely on his face.

Killua heard Gon chuckle softly, the man’s hand still on Killua’s waist where he felt like it was going to burn right through the bone if it stayed there any longer, “The sedative is probably a dose large enough to kill several big animals, according to Leorio. It’s not safe. Killua needs to rest.”

Killua swiped Gon’s lingering hand off his hip bone and grabbed heavily onto the ledge of the nightstand, pulling himself up with effort. His legs felt like absolute jelly but he could not, absolutely could not stay here in this room for one more second.

One step. Then another. Gon’s eyes from where he was kneeling on the floor were threatening to become permanently part of his back. That was starting to be annoying. Walking was thankfully getting easier, but the swimming in his head seemed to accelerate with every movement towards the hotel room door.

Finally, he reached it. Killua pulled it open with effort rippling down his bandaged arms and let it close behind him with a click, breaking into a sprint as soon as his bare feet hit the hallway carpeting.

As it turns out, despite everything he’d told himself the day before, there was still one problem Killua was still very okay with running from.

He didn’t look back.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Killua almost tripped on his mad dash down the hotel stairs three times. No way he was taking the elevator. He felt too agitated and sweaty. Downright clammy. He wiped his palms over and over on his thin boxer shorts. Every time he scaled down a flight of stairs, Killua would have to catch himself before he ran face-first into the stairwell wall at the bottom.

He felt lightheaded and sluggish. Whatever those two gave him, oh boy, they must have given him a lot. His body just didn’t react to poison, period. The fact that Leorio was able to pull off a stunt like this on him was impressive, to say the least.

Finally, a sign that indicated Killua had reached the lobby floor of the hotel. He pushed his whole body against the metal stairwell door to stumble into a fancy, huge, well to-do looking hotel lobby. Had to be five star. Killua knew a five star hotel when he saw one. He must not have noticed how nice it was while in the room about fifteen floors up. Must have been the, you know, drugs.

Civilian eyes stared instantly, some even double taking when he passed them. The room was swaying. Killua ran a sweaty hand angrily over his face. What? Had they never seen a guy in an undershirt and his shorts before?

Killua came to a stop to hold onto the back of a large cushioned hotel lobby sofa for a moment. Only a moment. Just to catch his breath.

“Sir?” A big man, most likely a security guard, lumbered over from behind and gently put a hand on his bicep, “You don’t seem well. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

“No!” Killua hissed, jerking his arm away roughly. An image of a scene in the warehouse flashed through his brain. The lobby felt like it was swaying sideways. Strangers touching him - not okay.

“You’re wounded, please try to stay calm”

Wounded? Of course he was wounded, but he had all these fucking bandages and tape covering him, didn’t he? Killua backed away.

“Officer, don’t worry, I’ve got this covered.” A voice sounded from behind him. Familiar voice. Leorio’s voice?

Leorio, or at least a blur that was in the shape of Leorio, came into view and appeared to flash his Hunter’s License at the security guard, “I’m his doctor.”

Killua stared with wide eyes. Leorio turned his back on the skeptical-looking security officer and approached him slowly, offering his hand out to Killua like a peace offering. Killua took it, feeling very much like a little kid as Leorio muttered to himself, leading him across the lobby in a route where there were not that many other hotel guests.

“Are you insane? Why the fuck are you down here?” Leorio scolded quietly as he tightened his grip on Killua’s hand, “You let them call an ambulance and I’ll be put behind bars for attempted murder, with how much sedative is in your thick skull.”

“Leori-?“

“And look at you,” Leorio whispered, aghast, as he pressed the upward button on the outside of the elevator, “You get any blood on this floor and I will use your dead body to wipe it up.”

“Let me go, I need to go to Alluka.” Killua wrestled his hand out of Leorio’s and tried to turn away when Leorio grabbed his shoulders with strong hands.

“Alluka? Alluka is fine. She’s with Bisky.” He chided, looking confused as to why Killua wasn’t aware of this, “But the house isn’t safe right now. Didn’t Gon tell you?”

Gon. Killua must have frowned hard because Leorio backtracked almost immediately.

“Okay. Okay, I understand.” He said apologetically as the elevator chimed.

“I’m not going up with you,” Killua said. He attempted to box himself out and look menacing despite the way his surroundings were starting to look downright cartoonish with his drug-filled brain.

The slightly taller Hunter gave him a very unimpressed once-over.

Leorio then sighed, rolling his eyes, and grabbed Killua’s arm, pulling him easily into the brightly lit elevator. He began pressing the button inside repeatedly as if trying to close the doors more quickly, “Sorry, Killua, I’m not feeding you to the Needlemen waiting for your skinny ass outside.”

Needlemen? So Illumi was still alive. This was confirmation. It had all been for nothing. Killua instantly felt woozy, the bright lights and movement of the mechanical box they were now imprisoned in not helping in the slightest. In the midst of it, Leorio’s grip on his forearm was like an anchor, a welcome one. Finally a familiar presence he didn’t automatically have an urge to lash out at.

“I feel horrible,” Killua croaked out.

“No, shit.” Leorio looked genuinely annoyed, “Your body isn’t even supposed to be awake right now. Opening that wound sure isn’t helping, you idiot.”

What wound? Killua looked down at himself. Sure enough, right in the middle of his chest there was a spotty amount of blood seeping through the thin undershirt.

“Oh.” Killua said, feeling detached. So thats why that guy wanted to call an ambulance. Amateur. This was nothing. He felt like it was getting harder to breathe. Okay, maybe not nothing, but stupid. This was so fucking stupid.

“Now, I’m not going to ask what happened, and I do not want to know how you ended up all the way down in the lobby, but I’m taking you to my room, okay?”

Even in his slow and woozy state, Killua could read between the lines. Leorio really meant _‘what happened between you and Gon’,_ but he had apparently too much sense at the moment to articulate.

“We’ll patch you up, and you are going to sleep like a little baby.”

“But Allu-“

“Alluka is fine. Worry about yourself for once.”

Killua shut his mouth, frowning. Worrying about himself was all he ever did, couldn’t Leorio see that?

The elevator finally chimed and let them out into another bright hallway identical to the one he’d fled from not even an hour ago. Leorio half led and half dragged him down the hall and opened another big, heavy door with a plastic key card. To Killua’s relief, this room was a double-queen setup. Not sharing a bed with Leorio was something he’d have to count as one of life’s little blessings.

“Alright, shirt off. Let’s stitch you up for the thousandth time.” Leorio sighed, patting one of the beds.

Killua obeyed, climbing onto the bed and wincing as he pulled the now-bloody shirt over his head. As he flopped down on his back the world stopped swaying and the pillows felt like they were going to swallow him whole. He was so tired.

“I’m going tomorrow and you can’t stop me,” Killua slurred as Leorio began wiping up the wound on his chest. Wow. It must be deep, to bleed like that.

“Sure, buddy.” Leorio said absentmindedly, focused on his task at hand. He applied what Killua recognized to be an antiseptic. It stung mildly.

“I can’t believe Gon thinks he can just, like, show up like that.” Killua heard himself whining. Leorio was not the one to be venting to, and he knew it. It wasn’t his business.

“Well, he saved your life, so,” Leorio said. Killua didn’t even feel the needle as Leorio began stitching up the wound. Looks like he decided the surgical tape just wasn’t going to cut it.

“My life isn’t his problem.”

“I’m not sure he feels the same way, on that one.”

Killua huffed. He wanted to argue more, but the pillows were just so soft. And his eyelids were so heavy. The slight tugging on his chest from the stitches reminded him coldly of the warehouse. The Nen stitches. Machi. Hisoka. Illumi. But, for some reason despite the discomfort, Leorio’s last sentence made him feel warm. The words made his heart flutter oddly, in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time.

Oh, well.

Killua smiled to himself.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Killua hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep until he woke up. Morning sunlight pouring through the window. Leorio face-down, passed out in the other bed. Killua desperately needed a shower.

He pushed himself out of bed, pleasantly surprised to find the world was no longer swaying, finding his way to the bathroom. Killua stopped to look at himself in the mirror.

Black eye, chapped lips, dirty hair. Man, he was looking really worse for wear. Killua inspected the wounds on his arms, peeling off the bandages slowly. They’d almost made a full recovery, the Nen healing that had been used on them still traceable and at work. Leorio really was getting good at that, huh? Killua turned away from the mirror. He needed to piss.

The water in the shower felt amazing. Killua watched as sweat, dirt, and blood unstuck itself from his skin and hair and washed down the drain satisfyingly. He lathered the white fluffy mess on his head up in cheap hotel shampoo.

He knew he more than likely would have to face Gon today.

Killua cursed whatever God was responsible for this. He just wasn’t ready. Seeing Gon was like a hot poker directly to the stomach. Old longing, anger, sadness, all wrapped up into one. Old, but somehow, still incredibly raw. Killua knew he himself was different now than he’d he had been at fourteen years old. But was Gon? Sure, probably, but was Gon different in a way where he could understand Killua? Did Gon even know the full extent of what happened back then?

Killua watched the water run off his bangs under the spray of the shower. Did Gon even have the slightest idea what he had felt about him when they were kids? And, judging by his rapid heartbeat, the way Killua probably still felt about him, after all these years apart?

It was impossible to know. Maybe he was just feeling this way because of Gon’s sudden half-naked reappearance in his life. Maybe it would fade as fast as it had come on.

Gon was his only chance to find out what had happened in the warehouse. To find out how the fuck Hisoka knew he was going to hire the Phantom Troupe. To find out where Illumi was.

Even though, now that his mind was no longer clouded in lethal doses of horse tranquilizer, he felt there was something missing. Something missing in his very essence, like a loss he’d never be able to recover. A loss that, when he felt for it deep down, was just as liberating as it was crushing.

Killua blocked the thought from his mind. He turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a fluffy hotel towel and wrapping it around his waist after drying his hair with it. Mouth feeling tingly as he rinsed his mouth with some complimentary mouth wash.

The hotel room was now empty. Leorio must have gotten up and left. Killua noticed a note left on his pillowcase, which promptly told him Leorio had gone down to get the both of them some breakfast.

Killua sighed, looking down at the old boxers he’d carried out of the bathroom with him. No clean clothes today.

That was when a scraping sound coming from the door sent Killua on high alert.

The only one who could get in was Leorio, since he had the key card, right? So whoever was trying to pick the lock was either an enemy, or really stupid. A lot of times those categories overlapped. Maybe it was one of the Needlemen Leorio had mentioned?

The door handle jiggled once, twice, and then clicked as it unlocked.

A familiar head of dark, spiky hair peeked through the doorway.

“…Gon?” Killua said stupidly.

Fuck. He should have known.

Gon came into the room and shut the door behind him just as quickly, suddenly pausing and biting the inside of his lip as his eyes washed over Killua. Why was his face turning pink?

“Killua! I can come back later if I caught you at a bad time.” He exclaimed, hand still on the door handle like he was ready to reverse right back out the door.

“No, it doesn’t matter,” Killua sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He sat on the edge of his bed in his towel. Maybe he’d ask the hotel staff to rustle up something to wear so he didn’t have to walk out into the streets of Yorknew in his underwear, “Hey, if my shorts ended up in your room somehow, it would be really nice to get those back.”

“Oh! Yeah, they are. Leorio took them off yesterday and said they were in his way, not me. I totally forgot. Um,” Gon said, looking… nervous? He walked over uncharacteristically timid and slow as he sat on the edge of Leorio’s hotel bed, “I can get those in a minute, but I actually wanted to bring you this,”

Gon reached into his pocket and presented Killua with his long lost iPhone.

“I was wondering where that went,” Killua took it from him, pressing the outside button to check for any notifications. None. Huh. Bisky probably didn’t trust that it was still in his possession. She’d been right, after all.

“I didn’t look through it.” Gon blurted, face serious.

Killua rolled his eyes; there was the typical Gon he remembered. It felt so weird. He changed the subject. “Leorio told me Alluka is safe. I’ve got reason to believe him, cause he wouldn’t lie to me.”

“He’s right. Your sister - Alluka, she’s safe. Bisky’s got her house on lockdown. Nothing’s getting in there.”

“…And what would we have to worry about getting in?”

Gon fell silent. He turned to fully face Killua, the mood in the room suddenly turning tangibly serious.

“Killua… remember how when I killed Pitou, and her Nen was still alive after she was dead? Well… apparently that’s not just exclusive to Chimera Ants.”

If Gon was going to make him ask, so be it, it was now or never.

“You killed Illumi, didn’t you?” Killua said flatly. He already knew the answer. A part of him just didn’t believe it. Or, more confusingly, didn’t want to.

Gon visibly stiffened, but quickly recovered and turned his head. He locked deep into Killua’s eyes, resolve firm. “I couldn’t just let him get away with it.”

Killua paused a moment to gather himself.

“Get away with what? Gon, I knew what I signed up for the minute I entered that building.”

“I meant get away with hurting Killua.” Gon said seriously, eyes earnest. He shifted over, appearing to lean in towards him, his voice now soft, “Killua… he hurt you really bad.”

“So what? He and I - it’s what we do. Don't pretend you forgot that. I’m used to that kind of stuff.”

“I won’t accept that.”

The stark intensity in Gon’s eyes left Killua’s throat feeling thick. His mind took him back five years to a younger version of Gon. A version of Gon who would tear apart universes in the name of someone else. He swallowed. Yet another outcome he didn’t anticipate. He needed to fix this.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Killua said, trying to steel his voice, “You don’t get to show up out of the blue and make decisions like that for me.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Gon said, running a hand through his hair, looking away. In truth, to Killua’s surprise, he did look sorry. And not sorry as in Gon’s usual pretend-sorry that he’d witnessed time and time again during their childhood.

Killua paused, not having expected that. He didn’t know how to react, trying to recalculate the appropriate response as he felt the acid slowly dissolve off his tongue.

“Yeah, well, it’s done.” Killua said quietly.

“When I saw Hisoka touching Killua like that, I got really angry.” Gon pressed on. Not knowing when to quit. Of course.

“You want to defend my virtue, or something? Relax. I had it under control. Gave me a minute to figure out a plan to fight Illumi, anyway.” 

No, he hadn’t had it under control. Hisoka had scared the shit out of him. Gon didn’t have to know that. Killua decided in that moment that next time he saw Hisoka he was going to kill him very, very slowly. Save a lot of other people the trouble.

Gon nodded, eyes trained out the window into the bright Yorknew skies.

“So... Nen activation after death. You’re saying that whatever Needlemen Illumi created are still active,” Killua said, feigning calmness in order to veer the subject away from things he didn’t want to talk about. Not that he was any more enthusiastic about this topic. Illumi’s name was getting harder and harder to say. It didn’t feel real. Nen activity after death? Wasn’t that like, really rare? Maybe Gon was wrong. He wanted to know what happened during that gap in his memory. Play for play. Killua couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“Biscuit has it covered.” Gon said, standing up, looking out over Yorknew’s busy streets. He suddenly flashed Killua a dazzling smile he’d only seen in his dreams for the past five years, “Killua doesn’t have to worry. She yells a lot, but, Killua should know, she’s really fond of you!”

Just then, before Killua could respond, the door handle wiggled again and the lock popped, Leorio’s tall and lanky form appearing in the doorway. He didn’t even look surprised to see Gon as he tossed Killua a cheap-looking wrapped up breakfast sandwich.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes. And Killua, put some fucking clothes on, would you?”


	4. and i don't ask for much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with my nonexistent update schedule. I graduated from university last week and am now more than ever experiencing the existential dread that comes with planning my grad school applications. This fic is a nice escape from all that, its times like these where I find myself wishing anime was real and I was preparing for the Hunter Exam instead, ahahaha!

Staying in a home with four extremely powerful Nen users was something Killua thought he’d be accustomed to. Well, maybe it wasn’t that they were Nen users. Maybe it had more to do with _who_ they were rather than _what_.

Biscuit had managed to create some kind of barrier that drove the Needlemen away from the house. Some kind of Nen inhibiting technique, a forced Zetsu almost, radiating from a little new-age device she’d infused with her Nen and placed in a flowerpot on her front steps. The Needlemen were staying far away from it. Not efficient on anyone who fell outside the category of being Nen-controlled, however. So Killua, Gon, and Leorio were fine.

It was Alluka who concerned him with all of this. It wasn’t that she was being Nen-controlled by Nanika per say, but Killua would guess it fell within a similar category. The two girls had been getting headaches and Nanika was too weak to front like this.

Despite the obvious discomfort, Killua knew both Alluka and Nanika understood this was the safest bet for them right now. Until all the Needlemen had been put out of commission, this was their best bet for their own sanity. It was good that Leorio was staying here, too, because his real knack for everything medicine was proving to be beneficial on the headache side of things. Not to mention, Alluka simply adored him.

Despite the newfound safety, Alluka wasn’t the only uncomfortable one. Killua was too, but for a wildly different reason. He’d almost expected Gon to leave once they’d made it back to Biscuit’s townhome, but that wasn’t the case at all. It had been three days.

He was still here.

Still here, still trying to chat and sit next to Killua at breakfast like he’d specifically waited in the kitchen for Killua to come down to eat. Pointedly asking Killua’s opinion on things just to get him to respond. Going out of his way to do little favors for him. The kitchen was becoming a dangerous place.

It left Killua overwhelmed.

Killua wanted to ask about the elephant in the room, but the opportunity never presented itself. Gon kept the conversations light and cheerful, almost too purposefully. Maybe he was just trying to break the ice. Maybe he was trying to get Killua to forgive him.

You know, for killing his brother.

But Killua was still working through that himself. How could he forgive Gon when that issue was still sending him running in circles? Killua was angry with Gon, yes, but for a slew of different reasons. Things he didn’t even know how to approach, and the issue of Illumi was one even more fresh, more raw. More confusing.

Though, now that it had set in that Illumi was dead, it was taking up all of his thoughts.

Killua spent a lot of time hiding out in Alluka’s room. In fact, that’s exactly where he was now. Buried deep in the pillows and blankets Alluka had been slowly accumulating in her room from all over the house. It was safe there. No risk of Leorio, Bisky, or God forbid - Gon - barging in like they would in his own room.

A place he could hide and think.

With the only person in the world he didn’t mind crying in front of.

Though she’d commonly gently pet his head when the grief was too much, Killua knew his pain wasn’t one she could feel. Alluka hadn’t ever been close with their brother, spending most of her time imprisoned. Not that Killua had been close either. Their brother had been an evil, manipulative, sick person. Illumi did not deserve his tears.

This was unprecedented.

Killua did not want to grieve Illumi. 

But the tears would fall anyway. He had no way to explain himself.

For now, Killua was only numb. Today he hadn’t come here to cry, or even to think, just to be empty.

He peeked his head out of the mess of pillows at the sound of the door opening. Killua watched as Alluka padded over and lifted a pillow off the top of his head.

“They’re asking about you downstairs.” She said, giving his unkept messy head of hair two solid pats. Just like he would commonly do to her and Nanika. Nowadays their relationship had become quite the role reversal.

“Who’s ‘they’? That’s an important detail you’re leaving out here.”

“Leorio and Bisky,” Alluka rolled her eyes, “You might as well go. Besides, you need to eat something. And don’t tell me you already did. I’m not gonna be accessory to you starving yourself.”

Killua groaned. Alluka knew damned well why he’d been avoiding the kitchen. It was like Gon omnipotently knew the moment he even thought about setting foot in there.

He sat for a moment before Alluka gave him another pointed look. Killua slowly stood, resigned to his fate, removing himself from the pillow prison. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Fine.”

Downstairs, Bisky and Leorio were in deep conversation seated at the kitchen table, heads close and looking at Leorio’s computer screen talking quietly. After lingering awkwardly for a few seconds, Killua knocked his fist on the table to get their attention.

“Oh!” Biscuit looked up and spotted him, eyes tired yet bright, “That was a lot quicker than I expected. I thought it would take Alluka several years to convince you to come down.”

“Surprise, I guess.”

“Hm. Surprise indeed.” Bisky leaned away from Leorio, who was almost too purposefully not looking at Killua.

Which... was a dead giveaway that what Bisky had to say next was going to piss him off and Leorio knew it. Killua was already in a bad mood, and half expecting Gon to drop down out of the ceiling tiles at any moment was not helping.

In any case, he was still mad at Bisky.

“So, are you gonna tell me what you want or just sit there? Get on with it. You get more and more like my mother every day, grandma.”

“Shut up, you idiot.” Bisky reached down and lifted a cardboard box off of the floor and set it on the table in front of her, pushing it towards Killua, “This is _‘what I want’_. You’re gonna do some chores.”

Killua rolled his eyes but opened the top of the box anyway. Inside were several small devices identical to the one outside but obviously not activated. He picked one up to examine it, “Chores? Don’t talk to me like I’m still thirteen.”

“You’re gonna go around the city and place these in all the locations I’ve sent as pins to your phone,” Bisky said, not missing a beat, “You’re gonna do it because you’ve got no choice if you want to deactivate the rest of your brother’s Needlemen.”

Killua felt his gut twist at the reference to Illumi. He didn’t let it show on his face.

“Why can’t we just go out and bash their heads in? They’re dead anyway. We’d be doing them a favor.”

“We don’t know the extent of that Nen. It’s powerful. _‘Bashing their heads in’_ may not be enough to keep them down. With these,” Bisky stood and leaned over to pick one out of the box, holding the small round electronic object in her hand, “They’ll keep them down for good. Run out their batteries, exorcise them essentially.”

“…Okay,” Killua said, numbness blooming in his chest again. One more Illumi-related mission. He could handle it. Then it would be all behind him. “I’ll use Godspeed and get it done in less than an hour. Leave it to me.”

Bisky’s expression darkened, “Killua, it’s a little more complicated than that. You’re going to have to conserve your aura. These are new-age electronic exorcism devices, so activating them with your electric-transmuted Nen specifically is going to be the most effective way to make them work. Even better than my Nen ever could.”

“And?”

“You’re going to need to push yourself immensely for each one. The one I have outside is just enough to drive the Needlemen away from here. When you activate it with your electricity, it’ll be enough to blast Illumi’s influence out of them on the spot. In order for that to happen, you can’t use your Nen for anything except for that task to ensure efficiency. You must stay in Zetsu.”

“So?”

“So? You’re not stupid. You know what I’m about to say. You’re not going by yourself, and I don’t care how self sufficient you think you are.” Bisky said coldly, “I’ve given you three days to recover from your injuries. That’s not enough for me to feel comfortable with you running into potential violence without aura, but we’re running out of time. I need to stay here, so I can’t be the one to guard you.”

Killua was silent, staring her down and feeling the air darken between himself and his master. There was only one other truly combat-specialized Nen user besides Killua and herself in the house. It wasn’t Alluka. And it sure wasn’t Leorio. When he finally spoke, his voice was icy, “You’re kidding.”

“You understand that I do not care about your personal feelings. This is your job, and you have to do it.” Bisky said back, just as icy.

Leorio, caught between them with his eyes glued to his computer screen, was looking exceptionally uncomfortable.

“I’m not going with him.” Killua forced out from behind his teeth.

Bisky broke the dark eye contact by abruptly falling back into her chair, shaking her head, “You need to figure out how to communicate like an adult. Stop acting like a little kid.”

Killua felt his face heat up at the comment, “Hey-“

“Gon! Come down now!” Bisky suddenly called loudly.

A voice from upstairs called, “Coming!” and the three of them were subjected to hearing a few loud steps before a figure jumped down from the second-floor banister and landed with a bang into the living room next to the kitchen.

This was beyond uncalled for. For the umpteenth time this week, Killua mentally vowed he would kill Bisky.

Gon nimbly half-walked-half-jogged into the kitchen smiling brightly. He obviously already knew about this. Great. The worst part was Killua absolutely knew Gon was aware of the negative energy wafting from his body but was simply choosing to ignore it. Instead of angering Killua even more, it left him feeling awkward. And out of place.

It wasn’t fair.

“I’ve already briefed Gon on the overview,” Bisky explained, “Leorio, why don’t you tell these two the drop points?”

“Well, uh,” Leorio cleared his throat once, twice, turning his laptop to face the two of them, “You’ve got six points all over the city. That should be enough to get the job done as long as they’re charged with enough Nen. So no half-assing it.”

Leorio proceeded to show them the six points on the screen, located just far enough away from each other to make them a little unbearably far apart. Especially if Godspeed was off the table. Even with their superior speed as Hunters, the city was huge.

Killua was trying to focus on the points and the best route to take for each, but when Gon clapped his hand onto his shoulder and pointed at something on the screen, all he could focus on was that pressure.

At that moment, Killua wasn’t even listening to whatever was coming out of Gon’s mouth. He was so close. His body so close Killua could feel its vibrancy. The aura right under his tan skin that Killua had been certain he’d never experience ever again. God, Killua just wanted to reach out and touch Gon’s hair to see if it was still the same rough texture it had always been. He wanted to lean in close and inhale the scent that blasted him back to his childhood.

But why? He had been angry a few minutes ago, then awkward, frustrated, and then crash landed into nostalgia all within a manner of minutes. Talk about whiplash.

“Killua, are you listening?” Leorio said, starling Killua out of his thoughts.

“What? Yeah.”

“What did I just say?”

“That we need to space out the activation periods as to not alarm the enemy.” Killua said without skipping a beat. Thank god for assassination training.

“Right. So this mission is going to take all day, preferably a day and a half.”

“A day should do it.” Killua said.

“We should probably do a day and a half,” Gon smiled, turning to Killua, “We want to make sure we do it right and don’t take too many shortcuts, don’t we, Killua? Like Leorio said, no _‘half-assing it’!”_

Killua felt a prickle of annoyance. Gon using a swear word felt really weird. Gon essentially insisting they spend more time together also felt weird. His previous nostalgic emotions had fled like light in a dark room, replaced by the seething frustration he’d felt earlier. His icy eyes locked with Gon’s deep unreadable gaze in a silent standoff for a second too long. Gon was so close. Too close.

“…Sure. Whatever.”

“Great,” Bisky said, clapping her hands as if trying to manually diffuse the sudden tension with the noise, “You’ll leave in the morning. Make sure to bring whatever you’re gonna need for that amount of time. Toothbrushes, deodorant, clothes, I’m sure you’re both old enough to know these things.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go take a shower.” Killua said, turning on his heel. The sooner he could get out of here the better. He needed to mull over some things and grieve what was left of his personal space before he had to travel the whole city with Gon.

“What a coincidence, I was going upstairs too,” Bisky said, catching up to him in an instant and taking the back of his arm, practically dragging him around the corner and up the staircase. Leaving Gon and Leorio together in the kitchen.

“Haven’t you ordered me around enough for today? I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did.” Killua hissed.

“Listen,” Bisky said, hushed, as they reached the top of the staircase, “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, and I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but figure it out, would you? For everyone’s sake.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m not going to play this game with you, and he isn’t either.” Bisky’s voice was quiet, so quiet Killua was almost second guessing she was even speaking. Her tone shifted to a soft, understanding voice he’d never heard out of her, “I know all this is hard for you. It isn’t easy. I know why you spend so much time in your sister’s room. But he is trying. Let him try.”

With that, Biscuit left Killua at a stunned total loss for words, staring after her on the top of the steps.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

“I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.” Killua lamented, once again pressing his face into an expensive smelling pillow.

Alluka pulled the pillow from his face and lowered it to the floor, “Oh, trust me, I know.” She shook her head, but the words had no venom.

He knew he was getting no decent sleep tonight. Lucky for him, Alluka was a night owl if he’d ever met one.

Killua wasn't even grieving the lack of sleep. It would be a nice vacation from seeing Illumi’s face on the back of his eyelids every time he closed his eyes.

“It’s like I’m angry but then I’m not and then I get angry again. It doesn’t help that he’s not even giving me an opportunity to talk about what happened even if I wanted to. Bisky says he’s _’trying’_. Whatever that means! I guess it means pretending we are all good and dandy and nothing ever happened and somehow that’ll fix the problem.” Killua ranted, talking with his hands, “I can’t wait until he finally goes the fuck away so I can get back to not contacting him ever again.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’ve literally never wanted anything more.”

Alluka shrugged and Killua pouted lightly.

“I’m just saying. You said you talked a little bit at the hotel, right? What if he thinks there’s nothing left to say about it?” She said.

“No way. It’s not that. Trust me. He’s just running away from the problem because when push comes to shove, he doesn’t care how his actions affect literally anything.” Killua argued. The underlying implications of _‘his actions’_ being _killing Illumi_ were certainly not lost on his sister as her eyes turned sympathetic. He looked away.

“Maybe give him a chance. He was your best friend once, right?”

Killua sighed.

“Maybe. But that… that’s a whole other…” Killua trailed off. He’d never actually talked to Alluka about his past with Gon outside of the fun stories, the Greed Island adventures, the fond memories. He’d never verbalized the events in East Gorteau, NGL, or anything in relation to it to her.

Killua just couldn’t put that kind of thing on Alluka. He could only be so open, so vulnerable with her. Leaning on her about family issues, about his recent episodes of grief was different. It was something he allowed himself her comfort for, because it was her life as well.

His other problems weren’t as easy. She didn’t deserve to have to help shoulder all of his Gon-shaped baggage. It wasn’t part of her life, it was his alone. Alluka and Nanika had enough to worry about.

Killua sighed and laughed lightly, changing his mind about how to answer his little sister’s question.

“….You’re right. He was, wasn’t he?”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The summer morning air was crisp and clean. Killua sat outside on the stairs up to the house waiting for Gon to come out and join him. His purple backpack already situated behind him, full of snacks, extra clothes, cash, his phone charger, medical supplies, and Nen devices.

The temperature against his skin cruelly reminded him of the day he’d left to fight his brother only about a week ago. The air weighed heavy on his shoulders. But today was not a day to let himself get depressed. There was a job to do. He had no reason to be depressed about his big brother. He would keep telling himself that.

He had to mentally prepare for the immense awkwardness Gon seemed to pull out of him in the past few days.

And mentally prepare to get this done as fast as possible.

Besides, if there was anything Killua remembered about Gon, it was that planning for missions was basically nonexistent for him. Gon, time management, and careful planning just did not exist on the same existential plane.

“Wow! Killua is up early.” Gon’s voice said from behind him.

Killua glanced back and pushed himself to his feet. “So are you, idiot.” He steeled himself against the anger that flooded into his subconscious at the sound of Gon’s voice. There was a job to do, he reminded himself. Killua mentally repeated his mantra. _He had no reason to be depressed about his big brother._

Killua took a moment to observe the other Hunter as the man closed and locked Bisuit’s door. Gon was in his usual white tank top and deep green shorts with a tan rucksack hanging over his shoulder. His skin looked like the color of caramel in the morning light. He looked… really damn good. It pissed Killua off. Good thing Killua was not looking at him anymore.

“I know!” Gon grinned, leaping off the top step all the way down to the sidewalk, “I just think this will be fun. I’ve never done a mission like this.”

Killua made his way down the steps, allowing himself a small forced grin at his dark haired companion, “Me neither.”

“We should probably get going,” Gon said, “Okay if we run for a while?”

At Killua’s nod, Gon broke off into a jog, motioning his arm for Killua to follow.

Killua did, slipping his phone out of the pocket of his basketball shorts to find the route to the drop spot for the first device as he jogged after the other Hunter. Gon slowed his pace a step to jog beside Killua, surprising him by keeping a respectful distance.

“I looked at the directions before I went to sleep last night. We’re headed to Highland Street, it’s not super far away.” Gon said, “I already memorized the route, so Killua doesn’t have to worry about the directions.”

Huh. Maybe he’d already made the first mistake of underestimating Gon and his preparedness. This was new.

“…Okay, sure. Only if you’re sure you’re not gonna get us lost.”

“My directional sense is unmatched,” Gon bragged, tone playful, “Race you to the end of the road?”

Ah, there was the Gon he was familiar with. Relief flooded Killua’s chest at the familiarity.

“You’re cheeky. You’ll lose.”

With that, they simultaneously both broke into a sprint.

Naturally, Killua beat him by more than a few feet. He could tell Gon had been training, but at this point, with the life he and Alluka lived up until now, Killua was basically a professional sprinter. Even in Zetsu, without Godspeed, Gon didn’t stand a chance.

Killua skidded to a stop where the road met another street.

“What did I tell you?” He called triumphantly at the other man who was just now catching up to him.

“Killua is so fast!” Gon gasped, giving a defeated looking smile up at Killua with his hands on his kneecaps, “Darn it. I really wanted to beat you!”

Killua laughed brightly at Gon’s defeat. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. He’d been angry and worried about awkwardness and personal space for nothing. Maybe Gon trying to fix all their problems with lightheartedness wasn’t such a bad thing. Talking about it could wait, he supposed. He ran a hand through his white hair, shaking his head.

Gon stood upright and was quiet as Killua’s laughter faded. His face flushed, probably just red from the sprint.

“I really missed Killua’s laugh.”

“And I really missed when you didn’t just say random things. Oh wait, that’s never happened! Come on, let’s keep going.”

“I mean it!” Gon protested as Killua began to walk away.

Killua ignored him. He wasn’t about to get nostalgic and ruin his newfound good mood that he hadn’t had in days. He pulled out his phone to both distract himself and check that they were still on route to the destination.

Gon fell into step beside him, face scrunched like he was thinking. The part of the city they were in now was bustling with civilians.

“Ging taught me all about architecture when I traveled with him for awhile.” Gon said suddenly.

Killua let out an inner sigh of relief at the change in conversation topic.

“Oh yeah? Anything good?”

“Just about buildings and how to tell if they are old or young. I just thought of it because of how mismatched the city is. Like, Bisky’s home is old, but these huge tall buildings are new! It’s hard to tell which ones were here first.” Gon said, pointing upwards, “But really, all of that was so boring when he talked on and on about it. That part is all I can remember!”

Gon laughed genuinely, a sound that was music to Killua’s ears. He felt a familiar, aching twist in his chest.

Maybe he had missed Gon’s laugh, too.

“He seems like a strange guy.”

“Killua has _no_ idea.”

Killua’s phone started pinging with the sound that indicated they’d arrived at the location before he had a chance to reply. He and Gon stopped and stared upwards at the huge business high-rise in front of them.

“Well, Ging ever tell you how to scale a skyscraper Zoldyck-style?” Killua grinned.

Gon shook his head no enthusiastically.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Leaping up the side of the building to reach a small cutout in the architecture’s side would be easy. Killua had done it thousands of times in his life - his hands and feet were killing machines that could adapt to something as simple as climbing expertly.

Except, with the eyes of hundreds of civilians to watch out for, Killua’s Zoldyck-style skyscraper-scaling was the elevator inside the building.

Gon’s unmasked disappointment was hilarious.

But it didn’t matter, because Killua was surprisingly having fun with Gon. Joking with him like there hadn’t been five years of no contact. He was professionally evading the big brother-shaped depression that was looming in the back of his brain. This new playfulness with Gon was a refreshing change of pace compared to the past three days of painful and awkward interactions.

He was giving Gon Freecss a chance. Take that, Bisky.

In any case, getting access to the building was easy with not one, but two Hunter’s Licenses.

The elevator dinged to signal they’d reached their floor. Killua stepped out and led the way to an exit door at the end of the business floor’s hallway. Opening it, he stepped foot outside onto a small platform made into the side of the building.

The air up here felt thin. Perfect for a little electricity. No sense in wasting time.

“Alright, well, here I go.” Killua said, pulling one of the devices from his backpack.

With Gon at his back, Killua pressed the small electronic dome-shaped object to the side of the outside wall. After making sure it was snug and attached well, he took a deep breath.

Electricity surged through his entire arm aimed at the object under his palm. Bright blue and intense, even as his Nen was being absorbed it still clung to Killua’s clothes and electrified the fibers of his hair. The amount was enormous. He hadn’t allowed himself to expend his Nen at such an explosive rate since... a very long time ago.

He was going to put as much as he could into this. For Alluka. For himself.

It was over in moments, the object glowing blue softly even after Killua removed his palm.

“That should do it.” He said, brushing down his black t-shirt to try to smother some of the static.

“Woah,” Gon said from behind him.

Killua turned, already half-smirking. Showing off was in his nature. He’d stopped trying to help it years ago.

Except, Gon’s face wasn’t so much impressed, he instead looked like he had seen a ghost. The expression was gone in an instant as Gon appeared to swallow and smiled forcefully.

“I’ve only ever seen Killua do that once I think. It’s really special. I could feel it from here!” Gon said, voice strange.

“Sorry, I should have warned you about the static.” Killua apologized, running his hands through his hair to dissolve the remaining electricity.

“Um. Yeah, the static startled me is all.” Gon agreed, “Anyway, let’s look for the next one!”

The walk back to the elevator and the ride down was silent. Killua didn’t completely understand Gon’s reaction. The static was surprising to some people. Other people, like Alluka, loved it. Gon’s reaction just wasn’t one he’d experienced before when other people got a close up experience of his Nen. Except if they were on the receiving end, usually.

He’d sworn Gon had seen it more than once in the past. When, exactly, he did, was questionable. He hadn’t sensed Gon at all when using it to go find the Phantom Troupe. So, there must have been some other time from years ago. It was one of the fine print details of the past that just took an extremely insignificant backseat to _everything else_.

As they exited the building Killua checked his phone again. On the screen, one bright text from Alluka:

_How’s it going?_

_Remarkably regular_. Killua texted back.

It was the truth, save for the moment up on the building. Now the tension was receding almost as quickly as it had come on. His phone pinged again as Alluka responded.

_Nanika says hi :)_

_Hi, Nanika._

_She says Killua is lucky._

_Why does she say that?_

_Cause you get to spend all day with Gon and he is sooooooo cute ;) hehehehe!_

Killua shoved his phone back into his pocket. She might be his number one but now was not the time for Nanika and her newfound obsession with matchmaking.

It was getting close to noon. Killua lightly fanned his face with his hand. The summer Yorknew sun sure was something else. He glanced at Gon.

Gon himself was looking a little lost in thought staring ahead. Killua could tell he was sweating lightly by the way the fabric of his tank top was lightly clinging to him.

Killua had to admit, Gon had grown up to be _really_ good looking. He begrudgingly silently agreed with Nanika’s assessment. Not exactly helping Killua’s case, as this was someone he was supposed to be mad at, not someone he was supposed to be ogling. His inner fourteen-year-old was trying to convince him that there indeed was more than a simple physical attraction.

Which, even Killua had to accept his childish crush on Gon had survived and weathered these long five years, it was only that. Childish, unreciprocated, and unrealistic. Given the circumstances, Killua was glad it was.

He decided he didn’t care why Gon had been so unnerved by his aura display up on the building.

Illumi had been Killua’s problem. Killua’s responsibility to overcome. Killua’s big brother. The most prominent figure in Killua’s mind for the past five years as he evaded and evaded and evaded him.

Gon had no right.

Killua’s runaway thoughts were beginning to instigate the anger and depression into making quite the comeback. He knew there was more to this emotion than just the present and looming elephant in the room, because when he looked at Gon the twist in his stomach was one he’d been feeling for five years.

Just like the Yorknew architecture in Gon’s observation, Killua’s wounds regarding the other were both old and new. Built up in different times but now irrevocably part of one another. Twisting, turning, corroding and renewing. Hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also want to say thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, or even read this far! This fic is kind of getting attention more quickly than I had anticipated. Thank you all so much!


	5. maybe we forgot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here, the chapter most of you have been waiting for. It's also considerably longer than the other chapters, but I felt like cutting it down would be doing it a disservice. This is a complex story with complex emotions, and therefore it's been quite a learning experience for me as these characters develop on their journeys. I hope you're ready to hash some things out (for once)!

They’d managed to set up two more of the Nen devices as the two Hunters continued their trapeze through the city. The first one was located behind some kind of mosque this time in a low-populated area of the city, and the second all the way on the outskirts of town by a local dump, which smelled terrible and reminded Killua of what he imagined Meteor City might be like. Three down, three to go.

Killua found it almost surprising they hadn’t run into any Needlemen yet. It was probably working to their advantage that he was using Zetsu until he had to activate a device, which would exorcise any of the Needlemen in the area that might be instigated by his aura anyway. Biscuit had really thought this through, hadn’t she?

For now, he’d managed to squash the negative emotions that had bubbled their way to the surface. Killua was getting good at this. There was a job to do. And, at the moment, an argument to win against Gon.

“Are you kidding? A fight between Bisky and Palm? Bisky would win, that’s like, not even a debate.”

“You’re wrong! Palm might be more of an intelligence specialist, but she’s part Ant now!” Gon argued, “I think Killua is seriously underestimating her.”

“Gon. I can’t even believe that’s your argument.”

“I’m serious. I spent some time training with her last year and she almost killed me. Three times!”

“I’d be willing to bet Bisky has almost killed you way more times than that,” Killua said, “Why choose Palm to train with, anyway?”

“She was next on my list,” Gon shrugged, “I trained with pretty much everyone I think.”

Huh. _Everyone_. So there was an imaginary list of people that apparently did not involve Killua. He ignored the dull pang in his chest. Probably just his wound acting up.

“…Why?”

Gon shrugged again lamely, “I guess learning to use Nen again was harder than I thought it would be. Getting it back was tough, so I tried all kinds of things.”

Killua was silent, taking this in. He’d known Gon had somehow regained use of his aura, but the thought of _how_ hadn’t been something his brain had the room to think about ever since the man beside him made his reappearance back into his life.

The expanse of time between them seemed immense at that moment. Gon had never mentioned this before. Somehow this felt important. What else had Killua missed about Gon’s life?

“That sounds tough, yeah.” Killua replied finally.

“It was! Morel had me do this experimental underwater-pressure-therapy-thing which totally sucked!” Gon exclaimed, as if taking Killua’s response as a green light to elaborate enthusiastically, “Kurapika did some kind of traditional Kurta healing ritual on me, but I think that only works on other Kurta’s, or something.”

“Huh.”

“You know, Kurapika’s traditional prayer-based healing is interesting, and really pretty, but to be honest I think I’d rather go with Leorio’s methods. What do you think?”

Ah, there he went again asking Killua his opinions to get him to say something.

Suddenly, something shiny drew Killua’s attention rapidly out of the corner of his eye within the crowds of people walking past.

He felt a strong tan hand swiftly wrap around his own and pull him into an alleyway off the sidewalk. Unsurprising that Gon had noticed nearly the same second Killua did. Killua didn’t need to look again to confirm what he thought he saw. The telltale glint of one of Illumi’s needles sticking out of the back of some poor victim’s head.

“About time,” Killua said lowly as they both pressed themselves flat against the brick alleyway wall.

“I’ll take care of it.” Gon said, not even bothering to whisper. His eyes were scanning the people walking past rapidly, already looking primed to pounce.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Gon didn’t even appear to notice Killua had said anything. His one arm flat across Killua’s body gripped the other’s hand like a vice. Eyes miles away into the crowd. Mouth pressed into a thin, concentrated frown.

Again, it was like the places where Gon’s skin touched his own seemed to be warm. Too warm.

Killua was about to protest again when Gon’s other hand slid up and covered his mouth.

Killua blinked at him incredulously. In vain, however, because within the next moment Gon vanished in a surge of energy. Back into the crowds, focused on the enemy in a sea of civilians.

How many of Killua’s friends and acquaintances had Gon shown the same protective gesture towards in the time he’d been absent from the other’s life? Why did that thought send a flare of something - _jealousy?_ \- through his chest?

He unconsciously pressed a hand to his lips.

Scorching hot.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

They were, yet again, in another alleyway.

Killua was still a little dumbstruck as he watched Gon use a wipe from his pack to clean the droplets of blood from his fingertips.

Only minutes ago Killua had been the sole observer in the crowds to watch Gon take out three unsuspecting Needlemen near simultaneously. Not only that, but do it in a manner that no civilians even noticed anything was happening. No visible blood, no mess, no struggle. Damn near professional. No, not even near, it just straight up _was_.

Yeah. Gon. Making a kill _professionally_.

The much shorter, scrawnier, younger version of the man who had taken up residence in Killua’s mind for the past five years wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.

Gon Freecss was not the same person he’d been before. This much was the final push of proof.

Disposing of the bodies in an alleyway garbage bin in the middle of Yorknew City might be a less professional choice, but it wasn’t like there was much in the way of options. Besides, the Needlemen were going to be set to rest today sooner or later, wherever they happened to be. Whether it be by Gon’s Jajanken blade or Killua’s device activation.

The blood being cleaned off Gon’s hands sent a cold chill down Killua’s spine.

Is that how Illumi’s blood had looked on those hands? Red, lightly smeared, insignificant?

No.

It hadn’t, he was sure. In the pit of Killua’s stomach he knew his brother’s demise had been far less merciful.

“-ooks like it’s going to rain.” Gon’s voice brought him crashing back to reality.

“What? Oh, I guess it does.”

“It was so nice, not so long ago.” Gon said, looking upward.

Killua looked up, too. Sure enough, clouds now covered where it was once a sunny day not one hour ago. But his mind was far from the weather.

Subconsciously, Killua found himself glancing back at Gon’s hands once more.

Gon then turned and looked him straight in the eye. Killua faltered. Gon stared for a moment, and then glanced at his now-clean hand, before flexing it closed into a fist. Gon’s eyes flicked back to his. In that moment Killua could swear the other had read his mind.

And now, Gon looked like he was getting ready to say something. Oh no, oh no, no, no, no. Killua wasn’t ready.

“We should get going to the next one before the storm hits.”

Killua turned on his heel and started back the way they came from.

After a moment of pregnant stillness, he soon heard Gon’s footsteps follow after him.

He hadn’t imagined it, he was sure. Gon’s hesitation told him enough. Killua felt like this had to be some kind of cosmic punishment. All of it.

Despite that, Killua wanted to know what Gon had to say. He wanted to know what happened in the warehouse, he wanted to ask, desperately. At the same time, talking about Illumi might break him right now. At the same time as _that_ , Killua’s mind was still reeling from Gon’s vice on his hand in the alleyway, Gon’s hand over his mouth.

The same hand Gon had just caught him staring at.

Ping-ponging from anger to exasperation to something akin to infatuation and back again was exhausting.

The silence between them as they headed to the next location was thick, thick and oily like fresh vaseline. A silence that promised one wrong move would mean the end of Killua’s desperate escape and a slippery slope down everything he didn’t want to deal with, didn’t know if he _could_ deal with. A bomb only a hair away from exploding.

Good thing Killua had been expertly dismantling bombs since he was four years old.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The next location was actually not far at all, located not even a mile away from where they wound up disposing of the Needlemen that Gon had taken out.

A well-hidden set of stairs descending down along the sidewalk on a not-so-populated street in the shopping district was their destination. Killua thought it was odd, but perhaps that was precisely the reason Biscuit decided on it due to the hidden-in-plain-sight thing happening here. It was evident the stairs had once lead to an old comic book store, now abandoned.

The weather was a bit unnerving. Killua could have sworn two hours ago he was sure he was going to get a sunburn, but now the sky was filling slowly and steadily with dark, angry clouds.

Fitting, seeing as how Killua was pretty positive the sky matched the tension between himself and Gon right now. The other Hunter hadn’t said anything at all on the way over, and Killua would be lying if he said he hadn’t stolen glances, trying to read him, trying his hardest to figure out what in God's name to say or do next.

That would have to be future Killua’s problem though, because he had a job to do now that they were here.

Killua lead the way down the thin concrete stairway and expertly picked the lock on the old shop, popping open the door with an onslaught of dust to greet him.

The inside of the comic book shop was nothing special, the only signs it even had been a comics shop being the sign outside and some old worthless insignificant copies of things Killua had never heard of sitting on the shelves.

Killua was almost hoping Gon would get distracted by the thin books, maybe pick one up, maybe stop staring at the small of Killua’s back with that look that told him he still had words on the tip of his tongue.

But he didn’t.

Killua’s luck had run out for the day, he supposed.

He made his way to the back of the shop, approaching a shelf against the wall and moved some old flimsy comic books out of his way.

Without looking back at Gon, Killua took one of the small saucer-like disks from his bag and pressed it up against the cool concrete wall.

Breathe.

Zetsu release.

Surge.

Killua pressed forward against the device as his aura roared to life in an instant. Bright, bright, bright in his vision, the feeling down his arms and legs familiar yet just as exhilarating as it was the first time he’d accomplished it.

Killua raised it up to full blast with a little spark deep in his stomach, enjoying the feeling of the hairs on the back of his neck rising up, up, up. He poured every one of his frustrated emotions into it, fueling the roar, providing a much needed temporary serenity as they left his aching muscles.

His anger, depression, bloodlust, fueling his power output like a fire.

Killua let loose an extra jolt for good measure before he let the electricity naturally wind down. He was just feeling the hair on his arms rest back down to his skin when a voice jolted him back to reality.

“You know why I was so surprised when Killua used that ability up on the skyscraper?”

Killua didn’t turn to face him.

“It’s because Killua is so beautiful like that, so full of energy, like a star.” Gon’s voice was quiet, “I never thought I’d get to see it again. I only saw it one time.”

Killua was silent still. What was the point of this.

“It was the last thing I saw before I blacked out, you know, back then in East Gorteau. I was an idiot. Killua saved my life.” Gon had begun mindlessly looking through comic books, chuckling, “For a long time I thought it had been a dream.”

Killua’s throat was dry, “Why are you telling me this.”

“I want you to talk to me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means! You have been weird all day, Killua! I don’t know what to do about it, and I can’t help unless you tell me how you want to fix it.”

There it was, the hypothetical bomb going off. Killua felt like he could see his vision turn red in an instant.

“Oh, you want to help me? Is that what you want? Really? Because I’ve been ‘ _weird all day_ ’ _?”_ Killua didn’t hold back on the venom on his tongue.

Killua saw Gon suppress a flinch. It felt amazing.

Gon’s voice was high, “Not just all day. Ever since we got to Bisky’s. I know Killua is angry with me, and I deserve it, but we need to talk about it before it gets out of hand.”

“No, no, no, no. You are not the one who gets to decide when we get to talk about this. This has been one hundred fucking percent out of hand since you showed your face. You don’t get to decide when to talk about this, not when you’ve given me no room to talk about it even if I wanted to.”

Gon looked actually dumbstruck. Killua was facing him now, shoulders high. He knew he’d said too much, but the anger was just pouring out like water.

“No room to talk about -? Killua, I never brought it up because it’s not my place to.”

“So you’ve decided it’s your place to, _now?”_

“No!” Gon ran his hands through his hair, face red, “I decided I needed to say something now because your aura had so much killing intent just now I thought you were gonna turn around and go for my throat!”

“I’m sick of you acting like we’re all good,” Killua pressed on, ignoring the jab, barely, “You’re so confusing. I feel like I’m just being dragged along and this is just some stupid game to you.”

“It’s not! And I’m not trying to act like that! I know we’re not all good, I’m just trying to give you space!”

“Yeah? Well your version of space is really fucking horrible.”

Gon shook his head in exasperation, “You’re misunderstanding, Killua, why do you think I made sure to stay out of your way everywhere except one room in the whole house? I needed to be able to check up on you. But I know you need space. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know I act like I don’t notice but your eyes are always puffy and I can tell when you’ve been crying.”

Killua was silent as Gon pressed on.

“You won’t even look me in the eyes for more than a few seconds. You won’t talk to me and if you won’t look at me I can’t… I can’t read you. It’s killing me.”

Killua’s mouth had gone dry again. This was too much.

“How else am I… how else am I supposed to act,” Killua felt his throat tightening. No, no, no, he won’t cry in front of Gon. He can’t. Where was his numb death-like defense mechanism when he needed it?

Gon’s voice was then gentle, gentle enough that Killua instantly wanted to strangle him, “There is no way you’re supposed to act. I just want you to talk to me.”

The words were falling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Why do you care? You killed him. I was supposed to kill him. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“You know how I got my Nen back? I trained so hard. With everyone I could think of. Just like I told you earlier. Because Bisky told me, she told me four years ago that if I ever wanted to see you again I had to be good enough.”

“I asked you a question.”

“Killua, if I let Illumi hurt you any further I don’t think I’d count as good enough.”

“Answer the question.” Killua could hear how strangled his own voice sounded. He wanted to die.

“I know what it means. I know that you hate me for it, and I accept the consequences.” Gon took another step towards him, voice rising, “This isn’t how I wanted any of this to go at all! But I… Killua, I don’t regret it.”

Killua seethed wordlessly. He didn’t understand. This didn’t account for Gon’s choice of brutality against Illumi when he’d proven to Killua today that discrete killings were in fact, a specialty of his all of a sudden. He wanted Gon to regret it. He wanted him to regret it so, so, so badly.

Killua felt the tears spill over onto his cheeks and the next moment he was bursting through the tiny comic book shop window in a burst of electricity as he let Godspeed carry him far, far away, deep into the city.

He mentally apologized to Biscuit. Staying in Zetsu was officially off the table.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

By the time he’d reached the other side of the city, Killua’s eyes were dry and his hair was full of static. He sat down on a rooftop and buried his face into his hands.

Running away was something he thought he’d outgrown, put behind him, but recently that’s all he ever did when it came to Gon. The sheer self awareness of his immaturity burned in the back of his throat like vomit.

Oh, no, wait, that was real vomit.

Killua promptly threw up the water he had for breakfast.

By the time he finished retching the emptiness in his chest was tangible. Silently, he rinsed out his mouth with some water from his pack and stared into the dark clouds looming over the city.

When Killua was younger, it was times like these, after a mission had shook him to his core, that he’d find comfort in running home to those long pale arms. Arms that, if he’d done a good job, would pet his head softly and tell him he deserved some cake after such an achievement.

Not that those long pale arms were ever far enough away he had to run all the way home to find them. For most of Killua’s time as an assassin, Illumi kept careful watch over all of his missions. Father found it unnecessary. Killua found it unbearable.

Killua only realized his cheeks were wet when he accidentally touched his face moving a piece of white hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Illumi was controlling, manipulative. He’d convinced Killua that without him he was nothing. Which, for a portion of his life, was not far from the truth. Illumi had saved his life more times than he could count on both hands.

Right beside the suffocating, overbearing possessiveness, the torture sessions, the cruel words, Illumi also served as Killua’s only source of comfort. Kalluto was too young, Alluka locked away, Milluki antagonistic, Mother too preoccupied, and Father too distant.

Illumi, however, welcomed him with open arms at the end of the bad days, held him until the horrors of his mission had faded away, chased away the nightmares with chaste kisses on the top of his head.

As they both got older, as Killua wanted a life of his own, Illumi’s possessiveness over him grew into an angry creature. There was a cold sense of desperation and emptiness that Killua suspected had been a part of Illumi since the beginning. Now amplified, now burying whatever sliver of humanity Illumi had left.

Killua shut his eyes tightly.

Illumi was dead. Gon had killed him. Killua wasn’t afforded that luxury. It was for the best. Maybe there’d been a reason for it all. Or, maybe things like this just happened.

And now Killua was left to clean up the mess of Needlemen lurking about the city, of whom were searching for himself and Alluka - in vain, because Illumi wasn’t alive to retrieve them even if the Needlemen took them down.

Killua forced himself to stand and jumped along to another building rooftop, then another.

He didn’t understand Gon. He thought he had before, but down in the comics shop had proven to him that he was missing vital pieces of the puzzle he’d been purposefully looking away from this whole time.

He didn’t even know what to do with the implications of that. He didn’t know if he could face Gon again.

Killua needed to blow off some steam.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Finding the Needlemen was surprisingly easy.

It could have been because his burst of aura he used to bring him across the city had lead them right towards him, but Killua was not complaining.

It wasn’t even difficult to lure a handful of them to an empty street.

He wasn’t usually one to give in to these old vices, but these were unusual circumstances. These people were dead, anyway. He was doing them a favor.

Illumi was dead. Gon killed him. Killua wasn’t afforded that luxury. It was okay.

Killua sent his sharp nails right through one of the Needlemen’s chests, ripping its heart right through the rear of its ribcage.

He spun, shocking one with electricity, swiping its legs out from under it, slicing the head clean off before it even hit the concrete. His body moved independently, automatically, movements he hadn’t actually had to use in ages but felt so, so, so good.

With each one down he repeated it to himself. Illumi was dead. Gon killed him. It was okay.

He needed to focus. No more running for their lives. Alluka could go to college, like she always wanted, without fear. Maybe Killua would join her.

He plucked the needles out of another’s head in a smooth movement, letting it crumple soulless onto the ground. Small things, with yellow round heads. Insignificant to any regular person, but holding them Killua could feel them pulsating with a Nen he was all too familiar with.

Killua sent a burst of his own aura through his palms and disintegrated the objects in moments.

Illumi was dead. It was okay.

Killua heard his phone ping with a text message. The handful of Needlemen he’d collected were all motionless now at his feet.

Killua used his clean hand to pull his phone from his pocket. A text from an unknown number:

_Where are you? Please answer._

He’d bet money it was Gon. He’d bet more money that Biscuit had given him the number, that old hag.

Killua almost shoved it back in his pocket when again he suddenly felt stupid, immature. Gon’s mission was supposed to be guarding him from Needlemen, of course he wanted to know where Killua was. He’d run away _again_ instead of hashing it out, which he stubbornly knew needed to happen if he wanted to have any sort of closure.

Biscuit had been right. _Gon was trying._ And Killua... wasn’t letting him.

Up until now he’d been adamant in only seeing it from his own perspective. For the millionth time this week, Killua felt unbelievably childish.

He put his phone back into his pocket and began loading the Needlemen into garbage bins.

Killua only half-paid attention to the spark of electricity he sent to set the garbage bin’s contents on fire as he typed with one hand:

_There’s a café on 22nd Street. Meet me in 30._

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Killua must have ordered at least one of everything on the dessert menu. He’d purposefully told Gon a longer time than he needed in order to pull together his thoughts.

No more running away.

For real this time.

Killua took a bite of strawberry shortcake. The café was lightly populated, enough civilians that the location was inconspicuous, but not too many that it would make him nervous about what he needed to speak with Gon about.

He smiled at the waitress who brought him yet another slice of chocolate cake. She almost looked apprehensive, but the expression faded into a slight blush as she returned the smile on reflex. As she turned away, he took another bite of the cake he was working on.

Was this even a good idea?

The streets outside were dark even in the middle of the day, rain had begun to drizzle down onto the sidewalks and people passing by.

Killua compulsively checked the clock on his phone, once, twice, again. He felt his palms sweating. He felt like an idiot. Even the cakes in front of him were losing their attractiveness by the second. Maybe he should just give up and save face. If Gon even had a sliver of respect for him left, it was definitely gone now.

In the same moment that he was seriously contemplating leaving some bills on the table and bolting, the café door opened with the sound of a bell and Killua’s blue eyes fell on a damp, pissed-looking Gon staring right back at him.

Gon completely ignored a waitress who approached him and strode to Killua’s table in a few long strides.

Killua hoped his flinch wasn’t visible.

“Not here,” Gon said, dropping some cash onto the table, “I know someplace better.”

Killua sighed, shoving the money back at Gon and reaching into his own pocket for his wallet, “Fine. But I don’t need you to pay for me, idiot.”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The place Gon took him to threw Killua’s brain into a short circuit.

A fancy, clearly expensive restaurant with an interior decked out in mahogany tables and crystal chandeliers. Definitely not something he’d expected from Gon, but he’d learned his lesson from earlier in the day to hold him to any sort of past expectation.

They were seated in a dark area of the establishment. Yellow, soft lighting illuminating the space and two solid, dark chairs across from each other at an equally dark small table. Killua felt out of place in his street clothes, but Gon didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable as he kept his eyes trained onto Killua’s the whole time as they were seated, almost like he was waiting for him to run.

It felt bad.

“Interesting choice,” Killua commented conversationally as the waiter left with their drink orders, trying to ease the tension between them. “I never saw you as a, uh, a fancy restaurant kind of guy.”

“Are you going to talk to me now?”

Oh, okay, right into it. There was the Gon from his past, again.

But Killua hesitated. Deciding he was going to talk and actually doing it were two different things.

Gon sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand and leaned back in his seat with a different sort of defeated look in his eyes.

“If this isn’t the right time, it’s okay. I’m sorry if I pushed too hard.” Gon looked at him, eyes wide with earnest, “I want Killua to be comfortable with me. ”

The apology left him faltering. Maybe it was the moodiness of the rain outside, the warmth of the serene atmosphere in the restaurant, but Killua suddenly had the feeling it was now or never. Before he knew it, the words were falling from his mouth.

“Tell me what happened in the warehouse.”

Gon blinked back at him, clearly surprised by this request.

“…You really don’t remember?”

“…Bits and pieces,” Killua said slowly, carefully. He averted his eyes from Gon’s gaze, “But I need to know.”

Gon nodded, swallowing, “It - uh, it might not be something you want to hear. Are you sure?”

Killua nodded, forcing himself to look back at Gon.

Gon was probably right.

But he had to know.

Gon took a breath and stole one more striking look into Killua’s eyes before he opened his mouth and spoke softly, “When I caught up to you, you were already in the warehouse. I was a little confused on how Killua got there so fast, but that became pretty clear soon enough. Godspeed is really something else!”

Killua stayed silent as Gon continued.

“There was a lot going on. I had specific orders not to step in unless I thought it was absolutely necessary. For awhile I wasn’t worried. You’re smart, and you were landing some pretty lethal blows on him, even when he trapped you…”

Gon furrowed his brow, staring at the table, “But then… Hisoka…”

“I told you, I had it under control. You don’t need to tell me again.” Killua interrupted.

“But I do!” Gon protested, suddenly looking angry, “Killua, he needs to pay for that.”

“He needs to pay for a lot of things. Get on with it.”

Gon nodded slowly, then with a glance at Killua he begrudgingly continued, “After that, like I said, Illumi hurt you really badly.”

Killua groaned, “It’s not like he was going to kill me. This is Illumi we’re talking about.”

Gon nodded. “That’s what I thought too.” He said, “But then… he just wasn’t stopping.”

Whatever words Killua was going to say died in his throat.

“He just kept going. It was so horrible. He was choking you but you weren’t even moving anymore.” Gon was looking at him now, “My body just moved on its own. All I know is that I knew I couldn’t stop until he couldn’t hurt you anymore. I won’t accept that you’re used to it or that it wasn’t what I thought. I know what I saw. Killua, I know I took something important from you, and it should have been you who did it, but, he would still be out there if I didn’t. And Killua would be…. I mean, you would be….”

Just then, the waiter seemed to appear out of thin air. Killua jumped, having been so intent on Gon’s words he hadn’t even sensed him coming. The tension in the air broke, only for a moment as the waiter delivered their drinks.

Gon sent the waiter on his way after declining for any food, and Killua searched for his eyes only for a second before looking away.

Killua cleared his throat, taking a moment to school his face. When he opened his mouth to speak, he was sure to be level, to not let his voice waver.

“The incident downtown proved you know how to kill without excessive violence. You chose not to use that on Illumi. Why?”

Gon rubbed the side of his face, almost sheepish, “Oh, that… That’s, um, a little complicated.”

Killua’s eyes flashed and Gon held up his hands defensively.

“I was angry. I’m almost positive Hisoka provoked me on purpose.” Gon explained, voice low, “I’m not trying to make an excuse. I’m not proud of it. I’m sorry.”

Killua sat back and his eyes widened in slow realization as he attempted to unravel what Gon had just said. A scene from the warehouse flashed through his mind.

_‘I bet the one watching is quite jealous, right now. Wouldn’t you agree?’_

Hisoka wasn’t talking about Illumi.

…Wow.

Killua spoke slowly, “Hisoka talked about ‘the one watching’. He meant _you_ , didn’t he?”

Gon gave a slow nod, swallowing, “I, um, I think so.”

Killua swallowed dryly too, then took an enormous sip of the alcoholic drink in front of him. Not that it would do anything.

Hisoka thought Gon would be _jealous?_

“He did it on purpose. He knew what was going to happen,” Gon said, misery tainting his words.

“I had it under control in the Hisoka department.”

“Killua keeps saying that, but I…. Killua, I don’t agree!”

“I don’t care if you do! Why do you care about that, anyway? It’s over.”

Gon looked like he was about to speak and fell silent, biting his lip, giving Killua one of those wildly strange and unreadable looks he’d been throwing his way recently.

He watched as Gon took a sip from his own glass. The other’s face was blushed in the yellow light of the restaurant. Maybe it was the alcohol. The lights reminded him of Bisky’s dining room, the expensive decor and million dollar chandeliers.

Biscuit chose Gon to track him. Killua could not guess why. Earlier in the comics shop he’d said something about it, but it had been cryptic, confusing.

“Gon… What did you mean by telling me Biscuit said you had to be ‘good enough’?”

Gon froze visibly.

“I said that because I got all caught up in the moment. It’s not really anything.”

“But she did say that.”

“…Yeah.” Gon said slowly. He was biting his lip again.

Killua pressed on, “What does that mean?”

“It’s just a deal we made. An agreement.” Gon looked uncomfortable.

“What does it have to do with me?”

Gon’s deer-in-headlights expression looked like the roles had reversed and now he was the one thinking of bolting out of the restaurant.

“Tell me.” Killua demanded.

Gon deflated, sighing defeatedly, he glanced off to the side and drained his glass in one swallow, “I really wanted to see you, okay? So many things went wrong back then, and I - ugh, I needed to do something about it. I was so stupid. When I went back to Whale Island I did a lot of reflecting about myself, about our journey, about us.”

Now he looked back at Killua, a new resolved fire in those deep brown eyes, Gon continued, “I looked for Killua for a long time when I was training with everyone. You really know how to disappear!” He laughed weakly, “Biscuit said she’d help me, she knew how to find you, but she’d only help if I understood that something had to change. When she called me last week, I didn’t think I was ready, I still don’t think I am, but she insisted, so….”

“Something had to change…?”

Gon paused before he elaborated.

“I needed to be strong enough to protect you, to be good enough that I’d never let something like what happened in East Gorteau ever happen again. I took you for granted, and I did and said horrible things. You got hurt because of my selfishness. I never want that to happen ever again.”

Killua took a deep breath. He’d be lying if he said the events from back then didn’t play in his nightmares on repeat. That he was still so, so angry at Gon for everything. For nearly killing himself, for leaving Killua all alone.

Killua had _wanted_ to die with Gon back then.

It was supposed to be something akin to a lovers’ suicide.

Gon, filled with rage and despair, decided to do it alone.

Killua had been left to pick up the pieces. Like always.

Everything had gone so wrong.

“We haven’t seen each other in years. That’s the past. I don’t get why you’d go to lengths like that for me.”

Gon shook his head, laughing to himself. Killua furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of this, “Killua really doesn’t get it, does he? Oh wow.”

“Of course I don’t fucking get it.”

“Really? You really don’t?”

“Are you dumb? I just told you I don’t.”

Just as the words left Killua’s lips, a slow realization descended onto him. Everything started falling into place. Little pieces of the puzzle falling, falling, into place in a slow, agonizing dance. Everything and nothing made sense at the same time. Gon’s eyes looking at him like that. The little gestures. The things that just left Gon’s mouth. _‘I bet the one watching is quite jealous, right now. Wouldn’t you agree?’_

No...

No way.

Killua watched with wide eyes as Gon stood and threw some cash down on their table. He let out an exasperated breath, running his hand over his face before staring up at the ceiling for a moment. When his eyes came back down they were firm, a resolve that froze Killua to his core.

“It’s really simple, Killua.” Gon hissed, grabbing his backpack from off the back of the chair, ”I think I’m still in love with you, you idiot!”

With that, he turned, and Killua could only stare after him as his brain imploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so grateful for everyone who has left kudos and commented. I enjoy talking with you all - your thoughts and opinions are so important to me!


	6. all the things we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with the worst, most erratic update schedule in existence. We are winding down to the final chapter. If you’ve been hanging on for dear life after that cliffhanger, maybe this chapter will help make it up to you :) Or not :)

Killua stared after Gon with wide eyes.

_‘I think I’m still in love with you, you idiot!’_

His ears were ringing.

Nothing and everything made sense. And, right now, what made the most sense out of everything was that he was now sitting alone at a fancy restaurant and several people sitting just close enough to hear the end of their conversation were now giving him pitying glances.

This didn’t feel real. Not at all. The situation suddenly felt wholly out of his control.

He sat a moment to try to comprehend it. Gon? When? Why? What did he mean _still?_

Killua stood slowly from the table and took a tentative step, then another, and another. Soon he was running through the restaurant, waiters and fancily-dressed customers alike wore their unmasked surprise as Killua flew past them to the front door.

He ripped it open and stepped out into the drizzling rain, the dark clouds over the city now splitting to reveal the burnt orange sun of the sunset. He looked around wildly for a moment before his eyes landed on a dark-haired figure standing with his back to him. The figure stood only a few feet away, at the edge of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. It was obvious he was not hiding from Killua.

Gon.

Killua steeled himself as he approached and stepped up next to him.

Gon didn’t look at him, “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. I’m sorry.”

Killua’s voice sounded small as he forced out his words, “This is all so fucked up.”

To Killua’s surprise, Gon laughed. A genuine, we’re-so-fucked kind of laugh that split through the awkwardness between them only for a moment.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Gon said when he caught his breath, sighing with just a hint of misery, “It’s a lot to ask but, can we just, um, forget about it?”

Yeah, there was no way Killua was forgetting about that.

He didn’t know what to say in response.

Killua must have been silent for too long because Gon started speaking again, “I’ll um, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll keep a lookout for Needlemen but I’ll stay out of your way, Killua won’t have to see me, I’ll just be-“

“Don’t,” Killua heard himself say.

Gon then whirled around and his eyes, wide in shock, amazement, met Killua’s and for a moment it felt like time itself had just slowed down of its own accord. 

As time does in the city, fast-tracking itself, slowing itself down, and reversing itself seemingly by its own volition.

Killua held contact with that wide honey brown gaze for another half an eternity longer before he broke it. Those eyes looked so amber in the crisp orange sunset. It had been so long since he’d seen them in the light like that.Killua stared down at his shoes.

He didn’t understand himself.

“…Just stay.” Killua whispered.

Another moment passed.

Gon swallowed, “Okay.”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The decision to call it a night was an unanimous, silent understanding. Even with the two of them each giving a small bit of effort to try and diffuse the loaded tension that hung in the air between them, it remained persistent.

The hotel Gon chose was another five star high rise. Bisky’s home was all the way on the other side of the city, so it made no sense to make the journey back. As Gon checked them in - two separate rooms - he idly wondered if Gon was choosing all of these high end places because he thought that’s what Killua would like.

To be fair, Gon wouldn’t be wrong, but expensive taste was the last thing on Killua’s mind.

Despite the temperature of the city having cooled down as the sun set, Killua felt like the feverish city heat of the day clung to his skin, his clothes, his hair.

The heat followed him into the elevator as they rode up in silence. The backpack on his shoulders felt sticky, warm. Gon, though on the other side of the elevator, was too close. Killua was aware of everything. The slight bounce of Gon’s hair as he brushed a tan hand against it, the ripple of his arm muscles with the movement. Something was building in his stomach, a foreign, hot tension, leaving his head dizzy and breath short.

Killua was aware of the deep, deep, emptiness in his own chest. A hole that had once been Illumi’s place, that had been filled with the anger and loss of the past week. Now replaced with a new anger, a fresh confusion, a brewing storm of everything that told him he had no control over his life.

Gon’s words still bounced around in his brain.

_‘I think I’m still in love with you, you idiot!’_

The confession had left him reeling, made his stomach feel strange, and had born a feverish uncertainty and unpredictability. This silence between them was heavy, loaded. He wanted to tell Gon that he thinks he feels the same way, that God, he can’t believe he never saw this coming. That he is such an idiot. That he is so confused and angry and scared of all of his feelings for the man beside him.

It was all so incredibly frustrating. And lonely.

He kind of wished he was a little kid again. Everything was so simple back then. Back then, when the horrors of the day were over, he could just run into Illumi’s arms. He could just lay in his older brother’s lap and have all his troubles be swept away by simple, oh so wonderfully simple, pets on the head.

The elevator rang to indicate they’d reached their floor. The two stepped out and made their way down the hall. Silent, awkward.

Killua hated this.

They came to a stop outside of the room that matched the number on Killua’s key.

“….I’ll see you out here in the morning,” Gon said. He didn’t meet Killua’s eyes, “So… yeah, um, goodnight.”

His stomach felt so sick.

“Don’t leave.” Killua’s voice was quiet, quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, “I, uh, don’t want you to leave.”

He was painfully aware of how stupid he sounded.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Killua said again.

The tension was thick. Killua dared to glance at those brown eyes and was met with a look he couldn’t place.

After a minute Gon nodded slowly, and Killua put the key in the lock without letting himself think twice. Popping the door open, Killua waited for Gon to enter into the room first.

He shut the door slowly, letting it fall shut and click once to confirm it had locked on the outside. Like any fancy hotel room in the city, this one was modernly and minimally decorated, with a big white bed, and big windows looking out over the nighttime Yorknew skyline. Moonlight poured through illuminating the space. Neither of them turned on a light.

When Killua turned back around, Gon was standing a few feet away, watching him hesitantly.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Gon said softly, concern laced his tone and Killua wanted to slap him.

“I don’t understand myself,” Killua ground out. And it was true, he didn’t. Not anymore, “I’m supposed to be mad at you. I _want_ to be mad at you.”

“Then be mad at me.”

“Don’t you get it?” Killua snapped, “Everything about this is so confusing. You _killed_ _Illumi_ , then I find out that it was basically orchestrated by fucking _Hisoka_ , then you tell me you and Bisky had some deal having to do with me and didn’t think maybe I ought to know about it! Then you - you drop _that_ on me!”

Gon threw up his hands in exasperation, “I shouldn’t be here. Goodnight, Killua.”

He pushed past Killua but before his hand can hit the door handle more words were falling from Killua’s mouth, desperate to say anything before the other walked out, “I want you to stay.”

Gon paused, but Killua could tell he wouldn’t be in this room much longer if he didn’t do something. He knew Gon only had so much patience. He felt messy, embarrassed, but unable to stop.

Killua spoke again, and he wanted to punch himself as he heard the desperation and blatant honesty enter his voice, “I’m scared of what it means that I feel like this.”

“That you feel angry?”

“No.”

Gon glanced back around now, his eyes deep, unreadable. Killua had no idea what he was doing. He knew deep down that he should not, absolutely should not be doing this. That this would be his own fault when he regretted it, that this was horribly, horribly stupid.

Despite his better judgement, Killua stared back at the other and Gon turned towards him, taking a step, then another. In the moonlight he looked nothing and everything like the kid Killua once knew. Dark, dark, hair on that tan, island-kissed skin. His hands, softer than they looked - Killua knew personally. Hands capable of so, so much damage.

“What do you feel like, Killua?” Gon’s voice felt like a knife through the silence.

“You know what I feel like,” Killua all but hissed back.

“I won’t unless you tell me.”

“Then I guess you never will.”

Gon’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, like approaching a wild animal, his palm came into soft contact with the side of Killua’s face. Fire, fire, fire, leapt across Killua’s skin. So warm, so incredibly warm and unbearable. But moving away was an option he’d revoked from himself the moment he’d asked Gon to stay.

“Why did you ask me to stay?”

Killua didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Gon’s hand stayed there, like he was waiting for Killua to pull away, to slap his hand off of the pale skin there.

But he didn’t move. He asked him to stay because everything in Killua’s body was dying for something, some sort of human comfort in all this.

Killua averted his eyes, face flushing, “Just do it already.”

Gon then moved fluidly, not needing another green light, and Killua was frozen in place as Gon placed a single, chaste kiss on his cheek. It burned, burned like an inferno.

He waited. So, so still. Breath shallow, anticipatory. He waited until Gon’s lips separated from his skin, until Gon’s breath ghosted against his lips.

This close, Gon’s eyes betrayed nothing. Suddenly Killua knew for certain he was not mentally ready for this himself, but if Gon was… if Gon was, then maybe Killua would find relief from this old, childish craving for the comfort of another human. Maybe he wouldn’t have to think about Illumi, about his life’s total loss of control, about his confusion towards the man before him for the next hour. Maybe he could just follow Gon’s lead.

Killua closed the last centimeter between them.

Their lips had only just collided and suddenly Gon’s lips were crashing against his own, an arm winding around him to bring him closer, closer. Gon was kissing him. _Gon_ was kissing _him_.

Killua kissed him back feverishly, bringing his own hands up, running them through the dark, spiky hair. Its texture soft, and coarse, all at once. Killua was pushed back towards the bed and fell onto it backwards, Gon moving on top to kiss his neck, his jaw, his lips again.

This couldn’t be real. Everywhere Gon touched started a new fire, his hands wandering over Killua’s chest, thumb over his jaw, fingers through his hair. This was so, so wrong. Stopping was no longer in Killua’s vocabulary.

“Is this okay?” Gon asked between gasps.

Killua couldn’t even articulate a sentence back.

He instead flipped them both, straddling Gon triumphantly. In one motion Killua pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly off to the side. Gon’s eyes were dark in the moonlight, a strange hunger there that Killua had never seen before, that sent butterflies bubbling up violently through his lower belly. He’d seen a different kind of hunger there before. One that moved universes.

Gon’s eyes stayed like that a second longer, like they were trying to take in everything they saw all at once, before Killua let out an undignified yelp as Gon flipped them once again. Gon all but attacked his neck with one love bite, then another as Killua arched up to meet his body, desperate for any friction. Gon pinned his hands above his head as he moved to kiss down Killua’s chest. Killua quickly wriggled his hands out of his grasp, shooting down to fumble with the other’s belt.

This was a bad choice. He was in no mental state for this. But Gon _wanted_ him and his brain was fuzzy with how hot the room had become. This was okay to indulge in. He wanted Gon, too. God, he wanted Gon too.

This was okay. Doing what Gon wanted was oddly familiar, even now in this exceedingly new situation. It was safe, exhilarating. Maybe this was how it should be. Maybe he should just accept he’ll never have control in his life. He wanted this. _He wanted this._

“Wait. Wait,“ Gon gasped suddenly, in one motion pinning Killua’s arms down to his sides on the bed.

“What? Huh?” Killua breathed, face flushed, brain taking three extra seconds to register that Gon had effectively stopped all motion between the two of them.

“I don’t want it to be like this.”

“ _Gon_. Seriously?” Killua groaned, breathing out impatiently. He let his head fall back on the pillow, expressing his discontent loudly.

“I’m not going to do it with you like this.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re still angry. This isn’t right.”

This had to be some kind of cosmic revenge for Killua’s whole entire fucking life.

Gon released his hands and moved off of Killua to the edge of the bed. He tugged his belt back into place and Killua was ready to jump off a cliff.

“I can tell when Killua’s thinking something.” Gon said before Killua could even come up with a coherent thought.

“I thought you wanted this,” Killua growled, well beyond the point of bothering to hide his frustration.

“I don’t want to do it just because you think that _I_ want it!”

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean - _UGH!_ ” Gon exclaimed, standing up and turning to look at Killua, his face flushed and red, “You’re angry, and sad, and confused, and doing this just because you know I want to is only going to make things worse!”

“That’s not the only reason!” Killua’s face burned at being read by Gon so easily, “Are you dumb? I fucking like you too, idiot! Are you happy now?”

“So you admit that what I said is a reason.”

“Gon-“

“As long as it’s a reason that exists, I’m out.”

Killua watched in dismay from the white, cold, sprawling bed as Gon exited out the hotel room door without even a glance back. The door shut with a click, and he was suddenly left alone with nothing but exasperation, a bruised ego, burning humiliation, and about ten thousand pounds of sexual frustration.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The next morning came way too soon, even though Killua hardly slept for longer than an hour. The light that filtered into the room despite the blinds being pulled felt like it was mocking him and the dark bags under his eyes.

Killua decided he was going to take his sweet time this morning. Maybe he’d have _another_ shower on top of the two he’d already taken ever since Gon left him high and dry last night. No need to rush. Maybe if he was lucky Gon would go on without him and he’d never see him again.

Okay, he didn’t actually hope for that. The thought of Gon just leaving after all that made him nauseous.

Why did this keep going wrong? Every step forward felt like two steps back.

Maybe he and Gon really were bad for each other. Maybe that was a universal constant, no matter how they both grew and changed. It was old habits, again and again, and he’d been convinced it was only Gon and his actions in the warehouse until last night the other had called Killua out on his own bullshit.

He had been right. Killua wanted Gon, yes, he did - he knew that now for sure, but he knew deep down last night would have been atrocious if they’d gone any further. The grief, loss, anger, and confusion cocktail had him searching for comfort in an old habit, an old vice. The old habit that took its form in giving Gon everything he wanted even if it meant sacrificing his own wellbeing - especially if it meant sacrificing his own wellbeing.

But Gon had seen right through that. Something younger Gon wouldn’t have realized the severity of. He was able to recognize Killua’s actions for what they were - self destructive. Gon, the same one who made the impossible decision to kill Illumi even though he knew better, even though Illumi’s life was Killua’s to take.

But then again, did Gon have a choice? If he really felt that way about Killua, if Hisoka had really played him so expertly, if Killua had really been that close to death… what choice did Gon have, realistically?

No, maybe they weren’t bad for each other. Gon had said he was trying to be _‘good enough’_ \- the true meaning of that was elusive - but Killua was the one putting up the obstacles in front of Gon. Killua was the one who couldn’t move past the warehouse, who couldn’t communicate.

Maybe it was just Killua who was bad for Gon.

The realization made him realize he’d just shampoo-ed his hair three times completely lost in thought.

He owed Gon an apology.

He stepped out of the shower and dried his hair on a fluffy white hotel towel, pulling on fresh clothes from his backpack slowly. He pulled on plain high-neck burgundy t-shirt and moveable black shorts with white socks. He brushed his teeth, staring at his reflection. His blue eyes looked especially striking today, on behalf of the whites of his eyes being tinted red from last night’s restlessness.

He left the bathroom and went about packing up his clothes from yesterday back into his backpack. He checked his phone for the time: 9 AM. Idly, he wondered if Gon was pissed at him for taking so long yet. Or, option two, Gon had already left and Killua wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day, or perhaps for the rest of time.

Neither option felt good.

Just then, Killua heard a knock at the door.

“No room service, thanks!” He called.

“Killua, open the door.” A familiar voice sounded from outside.

Oh, so it would be option one.

Killua made his way to the door, anxiety rising with each step. Option two was sounding better and better by the second. He braced himself.

He begrudgingly opened it slowly, revealing Gon, holding two iced coffee’s and a takeout bag from the local donut shop.

Gon offered Killua a shrug and a small, tentative smile as he held out one of the coffees, “Breakfast?”

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Killua didn’t even have the mental capacity to remember to be awkward when he sank his teeth into the best chocolate donut he’d ever had. He was fucking starving. Maybe it was the whole not-eating-anything-besides-cake-and-pie thing yesterday.

They sat on the floor by the window. There was no way in hell Killua was about to sit on the bed with Gon right now. Despite his hunger, forgetting about last night’s humiliation wasn’t going to just un-brand itself from his brain that easily.

“Here,” Gon offered him the bag of donuts after only taking a singular plain one for himself. Killua accepted, pulling yet another from the bag.

He sipped the coffee. It tasted like it contained about three pounds of cream and sugar.

Heaven.

“…How did you know I like my coffee like this?” He asked after a moment.

A small smile graced Gon’s lips, “I guess I just assumed five years wasn’t enough time for you to recover from your sugar addiction.”

Killua snorted at that, and the two fell into a silence that quickly turned from comfortable to awkward as Killua became increasingly aware of their proximity, of the hickeys on Gon’s neck next to the fabric of his fresh black tank top.

Killua busied his hands and mouth with devouring yet another donut.

Gon had brought him breakfast. Gon had gone out and specifically gotten him breakfast while Killua spent the morning half-hoping and half-dreading the other had just disappeared off the face of the planet.

Last night was also painfully fresh. Whatever wall that had come down between them in the night was now freshly back up in place, so much so that the idea of Gon kissing him almost felt like a dream.

Horrifically, he was starting to lose his appetite again.

Killua felt dirty. Did what happen last night constitute as using Gon? And, if it did, he used him for what? To feel better about his miserable life, to feel something other than anger, grief, and unbearable, overwhelming confusion? Because in all of this, a sick, twisted, childhood-remnant of himself had been reborn to yearn for something even remotely akin to Illumi’s comfort?

“I’m bad for you.” Gon said suddenly.

Killua was completely taken aback.

“What?”

“I’m bad for you,” Gon said again. He raised his eyes and looked directly into Killua’s,looking decidedly unhappy, “I realized it last night. I almost pressured you into doing something you didn’t want to do. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you didn’t want it sooner. It’s not okay and it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

Killua blinked. Was he joking?

“Are you joking?”

Gon shook his head no, “I would never joke about this. I’m sorry.”

“That’s literally… No, Gon, none of that was your fault. I didn’t _not_ want to do it, you didn’t pressure me into anything, I just-“ Killua paused for a moment, trying to collect himself, before he spoke quietly with a blush dusting across his face at his own words, “I think I used you last night. At least I tried to. I’m sorry.”

Gon’s eyebrows creased and concern laced his tone, “Killua, I don’t think you used me.”

“I did.”

“I think you were confused, and I think you are going through a lot. I think you just needed someone.”

Killua shook his head no frantically, “What I did was wrong. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry.”

Gon sighed and the look in his wide eyes was just too much. Killua looked away, down at the floor where a half-eaten donut was set on a napkin. His face burned in embarrassment at admitting he’d done something so horrible, at saying it out loud, but he needed Gon to know he was sorry. Killua had done worse things. He’d killed people, killed people’s families, killed people’s lovers. Why did the reality that he’d wronged Gon feel so much worse than any of that?

Gon breathed in like he was about to say something, then let out the breath, apparently changing his mind.

“We need to get going soon.” He said.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The morning outside in the city was bright and warm. There were only two Nen devices left to be activated, and Killua felt like he could feel their weight specifically in his backpack. He was tired. Normally, he was fine going even a few days without sleeping, but now, the emotional exhaustion was catching up to him.

Thankfully, it appeared Gon was putting in quite an attempt to keep up their energy collectively, with a bounce in his step that Killua wasn’t quite sure was real light-heartedness, or if he was just feigning it.

The second to last location was in one of the many harbors in Yorknew City. To Killua’s surprise, the lengthy walk there was oddly therapeutic, along old cobblestone roads and passed old buildings. Maybe it was simply the ability to stretch his legs after spending the night restless, or maybe it was Gon doing his best to keep the air between them comfortable. Maybe both. Killua was mostly quiet on the way there.

Gon’s efforts were much appreciated, but Killua was not convinced he deserved them.

The harbor was huge when it came into view, and nothing like the industrial hub that Killua imagined it would be. Shops and restaurants lined the edge of the cobblestone that dropped off into the water. Big, majestic looking boats floated lazily as birds called overhead. Even the huge aquarium on the far side looked beautiful, complete with glass windows that allowed outsiders to peek in to see an enormous indoor rainforest jungle.

The two of them came to a stop at the water’s edge, people passing by in their colorful summer getups. The water was the only thing dismal about the scene - a dark, murky gray that looked like it had taken quite a beating from hundreds of years of pollution.

“Now’s the hard part,” Gon said, shielding his eyes against the sun, “Our location is gonna be inside one of those old stationary boats over there. They have tours on them, and stuff.”

“Getting tickets should be easy enough,” Killua said, almost shyly. The guilt still running through his veins was persistent, “They should have them around here somewhere.”

“Killua should really start planning for missions a little better,” Gon said cheekily, as he reached into his back pocket.

Killua watched hesitantly, and sure enough, Gon pulled out two boat tour tickets. Because of course he did. Gon smiled hugely, and patted Killua shortly on the back before taking off towards the boats.

“Race you there!”

Killua stumbled for a moment at the touch, which sent fire through his veins. Instead of reigniting the awkwardness he was sure was going to come back if it was given any chance to, the action interestingly seemed to lift some of the anxiousness off Killua's heart. Surprised at this, He allowed himself a small smile.

Not too surprised to lose to Gon running to the boat docks, however.

The boats were enormous up close, flying flags of all different colors. They had to have been at least several hundred years old, but exceedingly well preserved and even beautiful. They gave the workers at the booth their tickets and before Killua knew it they were lead with a group of tourists up into the first boat.

“I’ve been on boats like this before,” Gon said conversationally as they both stepped onto the old, preserved wood, “Back on Whale Island they used to come through more often than some people think.”

“Huh.” Was all Killua said in reply. He looked up at the enormous sails tied snugly to the mast. It rose way up into the sky, “We need to set up the next device so we can finally get this over with.”

Gon didn’t respond, and when Killua lowered his eyes down from the mast Gon was looking out into the ocean at the side of the hull. The expression on his face was strange, but Killua was slowly getting used to that.

“Gon?”

“Let’s get below deck to do it,” He said after a minute, and moved away from his perch and towards the old, tiny staircase leading into the belly of the boat.

Killua didn’t comment. He had a feeling saying something might make things weird again. The air between them was _not_ awkward, despite all evidence pointing towards that it definitely _should_ be.

He’d admitted to Gon that he reciprocated the other’s feelings last night. But nothing had happened in the end. Maybe that was for the best.

Killua was never good at wanting things that were best for him.

The belly of the ship was wide, and a lot bigger than it had seemed above deck. Circular, open-air windows let light pour into the otherwise dark cavern. There were old cast iron cannons rolled and blockaded into place by the edges, and closer to the front of the belly, a long walkway suspended above the deep rounded bottom of the ship. A plaque next to the railing informed them this is where the crew would often store their goods.

It was just luck that no other tourists had followed them down and were more than likely still enjoying the view atop the deck as Killua and Gon lowered themselves down into the storage area.

The floor was uneven, certainly not meant for human feet to stand on. Killua hit the steep belly as he dropped down, effectively sliding all the way to the bottom directly underneath the wooden walkway, which seemed so high now.

Gon dropped down beside him, and nodded as Killua pulled out a Nen device.

He knew even before he started that this one was going to be tough. Killua’s absolute exhaustion was not a part of the equation when Bisky had come up with the plan. But throwing in the towel here was not an option. If it was, he would have done it ten extra times over the course of this absolute train wreck of a mission.

Okay, the mission itself wasn’t a train wreck. But it was hard to deny a lot of aspects of it were so far.

Depressing thoughts aside, Killua placed the device on the tilted floor of the ship and bent down to hold his hand steadily over it.

He took a deep breath and forced his his aura to roar to life.

Killua felt the strain immediately as each molecule in his body complained at the maximum usage of his Hatsu. The blue light danced brilliantly, and he silently hoped to god none of the tourists were Nen users who would be able to sense it instantly.

He surged at the highest maximum that his body was apparently willing to give, and soon the electricity died down to a dull roar, then down to nothing but the leftover static.

Killua breathed out, relief washing over him as the device glowed blue to indicate success even when he lifted his hand. He stood, bracing himself for the dizziness he knew was about to rise to the front of his brain. It did, but he didn’t sway, and just stood for a moment with his eyes closed.

“Um… Killua?”

“Yes?” Killua said, eyes still shut, still riding out the wave of exhaustive dizziness.

“Uh. I think we’re about to get arrested.”

Killua opened his eyes slowly, putting a hand to his forehead and turning his face to give Gon a quizzical glance.

Gon simply shrugged and pointed upwards, where just in his line of sight Killua could see a frazzled-looking tourist up on the upper level of the ship belly, pointing in their general direction to some kind of wimpy looking security officer.

Killua groaned, “Great. Just what we needed- _WOAH!”_

Before he’d even finished his sentence, his feet were no longer on the ground. Gon had scooped him up and leapt powerfully up from the bottom of the hull onto the thin wooden bridge above them. Considering Killua was slightly taller than Gon, he imagined this spectacle probably looked extravagantly silly to their two onlookers.

“Sorry, Killua!” Gon exclaimed as he set Killua down on the wooden fixture. The dark haired Hunter didn’t wait for his response as he leapt forward and hooked his arm out of one of the circular, glass-less windows in the side of the hull.

Killua didn’t even have time for any strong words of frustration. Gon didn’t look back as he catapulted himself out of sight and Killua followed, easily fitting through the window and leaping up onto the top deck after Gon. Even if anyone found the Nen device below - which Killua was sure no common people were going to willingly jump down there anyway - there was no chance they were un-sticking that thing from the floor.

As they make their escape, again it felt like flames danced across his skin again where his skin had come in contact with Gon’s. He’d been squeezed tight against the other’s body, if only for a second. A second long enough for the his senses to be immediately reminded of last night. Of _Gon_ last night, kissing him, touching him.

Despite his guilt surrounding those kisses specifically, surrounding Gon specifically, a flurry of heat flared to life in his lower belly.

“Was that necessary?” He called out as the two of them bolted across the deck and leapt down onto the harbor cobblestone.

“Probably not!” Gon laughed as he dodged between tourists.

Killua hoped he could see him rolling his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I modeled Yorknew harbor and the boat tour after an experience in Baltimore Harbor I’ve had myself, though Killua and Gon’s got cut much shorter, and mine involved significantly less superhuman activities and more complaining about how unbearably hot it was that day.
> 
> Gon: *scoops up Killua to make their dramatic boat-tour escape*  
> Also Gon: Sorry Killua if this looks gay to the viewers.


End file.
